Invisible:Invincible
by extra-Mt
Summary: Misty found her tribe, Cordelia. But somehow she was still looking for her best self.
1. Green Owl

**Summary** : Misty found her tribe, Cordelia. But she was still looking for her best self. Post Seven Wonders.

 **Rated:** M

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"I didn't think it was going to snow this year," Cordelia said as we stand on the balcony together.

It's been a somewhat strange year; we could go outside only in light jackets even until the middle of December. Some of the girls who came from the North have even complained a few times it was too hot for winter. But when the clock stroke the twelve and indicated the beginning of the New Year, it started to snow lightly as if cued.

Cordelia's chocolate brown eyes twinkled as she breathed out a chuckle, and God, my cheeks hurt from smiling too much.

My love for her is indescribable, too immense and deep to even be labeled. Some people have tried and still do to name what we have together, but it's none of their business. What matters is that I can never seem to be able to stop grinning around her, constantly and wholeheartedly.

My life has never been an easy road, I can sincerely say. But what I've gone through last year doesn't compare to getting burned at the stake or being buried alive. And, I can say this with absolute certainty, I wouldn't have been where I am if it wasn't for Cordelia.

ooOooOoo

It was a few days after the last New Year's Day, and we were out shopping, or more like accompanying Madison, at the mall. The little diva tirelessly and passionately kept walking into a store after another for about 4 hours. Queenie, Nan, Zoe, and I were completely exhausted by the time, but for some reason Hollywood was as lively as ever. Of course, she was making us carry her stuff while she walked empty-handed.

That's why it earned a disapproving grumble of the dirty blonde when the rest of us suggested taking a break. We rested our butts on those little black benches you see at the mall. Though the heaters were working more than fine in there, the metal under my clothed butt sent me chills up my spine.

The place seemed less crowded than usual, maybe because most people just preferred to stay in and relax after the frenzy of Christmas and New Year's Eve and Day. Humming to Stevie's songs, my eyes were fixed on a couple across the lounge. They were holding hands, laughing, leaning against each other. There was pure happiness on their faces, such an infectious emotion.

"Oh my God, look at him."

I found myself smiling when Madison's almost patronizing voice caught my attention, and I turned my head. On the other side of the lounge, there was a guy standing in front of a restaurant. A half of his face was covered with a well-trimmed dark beard, and there was a little thingy people call a man bun on his head. His lithe body was hidden under a leather jacket, and I could tell he was several inches taller than me.

My eyes narrowed with confusion and I looked back at Madison, making sure I was looking at the right guy. It didn't help at all to see other girls checking him out reverently, even Zoe too.

I didn't understand what the big deal was. It made me feel like a deaf person at a music concert, not being able to sense what was right in front of me. The feeling of bafflement and being left out continued to sit at the corner of my mind even after we went home.

###

The academy was deserted like an abandoned amusement park. With most of the girls going home for the winter break, it felt like we went back to the old days, when the coven had less than ten people (one zombie included).

My cheeks looked like a pair of apples due to the cold air. The sound of my heels clicking on the marble floor resonated in my ears pleasantly as I hummed. Behind me, Queenie was arguing with Madison as to who ought to carry the purchased items upstairs. Their voices reached my ears even when I stood at the door of Cordelia's office.

Six rhythmical knocks -my signature knock- on the white grand door, but I heard no answer. My first guess was proven wrong; Cordelia would usually spend the day in there to, you know, do the Supreme things.

"Guys, did you see Miss. Cordelia in there?" I asked as they were walking into the kitchen.

Queenie was quarrelling with Madison over a different issue now, not bothering to pay attention to me. I raised an eyebrow at Zoe, who was attempting to intervene but failing miserably. She shrugged her shoulders apologetically and said: "No, she's not here. Maybe in the greenhouse?"

I said my thanks and left the room. Zoe could handle the situation on her own. It wasn't the first time they very fought over something petty. If things happen to get out of control, well, that's why I have the power of resurgence.

Stepping out of the building, I took in the tranquility that surrounded me. There was a certain kind of serenity the winter sky had. Even birds seemed to know how to fly like clouds. It was hard to believe there was a war, and possible attempts of murder, happening on the other side of the door.

My feet carried me to the greenhouse effortlessly despite having walked around in the mall for another two hours after the encounter with the guy with a man bun. The lights in the sanctuary were on, and I could hardly contain my grin. My hand gently gripped the wrapped gift in my pocket as I walked in.

Cordelia was sitting at the little desk at the corner of the room, her back facing me. Her silky blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail, and it made the clear skin of her neck visible. She was wearing a long dark blue dress that reminded me of the night sky.

With my boots, I was highly aware that they would make sounds, so I walked very gently. You'd think I did this not to scare Cordelia, but you're wrong; my whole purpose of this was to surprise her.

So far, my plan was perfect. But when I finally stood right behind her, Cordelia turned around with a mischievous smile.

"Damn! I was so close!" I exclaimed, stomping on the ground.

Soft giggle escaped her lips. "No, you weren't. I knew the moment when you walked in."

"That can't be possible."

"Yes, it is possible. You will never succeed in scaring me, I swear."

A groan of defeat came out from my gut as I gave her a dramatic pout. "It ain't fair. You know ev'rythin', you're the Supreme."

"Actually, this doesn't have anything to do with my Supreme powers." Her white teeth shone under the greenhouse lights. "But it's a secret."

"Whatever, Miss. Cordelia. Just wait 'n see, I'll find a way ta get the secret out of ya someday."

"Speaking of secrets, what do you have in your pocket?"

She raised her mighty brows, and I realized my fingers had been playing with it. Thank heavens it wasn't a secret from her.

"I gotcha a present," I shyly grinned as I held the little package out to her.

"But you already gave me one for Christmas." She bit her lip uncertainly, but her eyes contained excitement and perhaps a little bit of bashfulness. "You don't have to get me anything anymore."

"Oh stop it n' just open it. I know I ain't under no obligation to do this."

My cockiness made her roll her brown eyes playfully before taking the gift from me. My chest was thumping while Cordelia's slender fingers undid the package. The nervousness never went away no matter how many times I repeated this gift-giving, but it only made the smile I receive afterwards even more rewarding.

When she finished unwrapping, a small gasp escaped her lips. Inside her hands was a small piece of towel. Small embroidery of a green owl on one corner made a good contrast with the tan color of the rest of the towel. Cordelia's chocolate eyes comically stared at the golden ones of the owl.

Our eyes met, and she was shaking her head with a lopsided smile. It was her silent way of saying 'Oh no you didn't,' or 'You brat.' I'd spent enough time to decode her little gestures like these, and I knew why she was doing it too.

I'd always thought she would be a Labrador if she turned into an animal. You know, just a little innocent thing we do when we're bored. And I thought a Labrador would fit her perfectly. Loyal, smart, and charming. But one day I'd found an article of a wild owl, whose eyes looked like a pair of galaxies due to his blindness. His dreamy eyes and white feathers immediately reminded me of Cordelia. Since then, I would get her owls of many forms as gifts. Our bedroom was filled with owl stuff, actually.

Anyway, that's the reason she was shaking her head, but I knew the green owl had stolen her heart instantly.

"This is very lovely, Misty," she mumbled, her eyes locking with mine.

"I 'member ya sayin' ya needed more rags here."

"Oh no, I'm not using this for this place. That'd be such a huge waste and disrespectful to…this owl." She looked down at the towel before clutching it to her chest. "This fellow will go to somewhere else so it wouldn't get dirty."

"But the whole purpose o' a towel is ta clean things n' get dirty."

Cordelia simply shrugged, her brows arching as if to say 'So what?' I let out a puff of air. Although her sassiness wasn't reserved for me, the combination of the puppy eyes and mischief was only mine. It made me prouder of myself than when I'd gotten the incantation right for the first time.

Since she was still sitting in the chair, her head was about as high as my chest. I was looking down at her, feeling like the king of everything. My ringed fingers gently tucked a strand of her silky hair behind her ear.

"You spoil me too much."

"I do what I want," I asserted. It was my turn to shrug with sassiness.

Cordelia tilted her head slightly to the side, biting her lip and glaring at me playfully. Whenever she did this look, it was just contagious and I couldn't help but mimic her.

We continued to giggle for some seconds, before there was a hesitant knock. Our eyes were shot to the door to see who'd dared interrupt our precious moment. A pair of timid brown eyes was looking back at us and Zoe stuttered: "Um, the dinner is almost ready, and…Kyle wanted me to fetch you two, so..."

 _Why does she act like this, like she's seen something she wasn't supposed to?_

"We'll be right there in a minute. Thanks, Zoe." Cordelia gave her a reassuring smile and nodded.

It was a disappointment to end the endearing moment, but my stomach was singing in excitement. Being with Cordelia often made me forget how tired or hungry I was, and I was certain it'd be the death of me one day.

My pretty queen beamed at me and grabbed my hand, her other hand holding the towel as if it was a newborn baby, or something that needed extra caution and care. I mimicked her face and bit my lip as we walked out of the greenhouse.

Just right before she turned the lights off, I managed to admire the little kingdom Cordelia'd let me in and stay. I didn't realize when I first set foot in the greenhouse, but I'd come to know how important this place was to Cordelia. It must've been a risky decision to let a stranger like me in.

Locking the door, we waltzed back to the main building. The moon was high in the sky and was shining down on us, and I felt we were truly the king and the queen of the world. I wanted this moment, this thing between us, to last forever.

But the fervor of the New Year's Day was gradually replaced by the fanaticism of Valentine's Day. The world around us was covered in red and pink and roses, and it became incredibly difficult not to get involved myself.

* * *

 **To be continued…**


	2. No Almond Cookies

**Guys, thank you for such positive reviews and reaction! I'm so, so flattered.**

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Having lived in a small community where most of the residents were religious fanatics, Valentine's Day had never been part of my life. There was no TV, or radio in the community. There was basically no way to get information from the mainstream. My knowledge about this event was still limited, but I'd learned what it was about from the girls and Cordelia.

It was around the middle of January that I first noticed the stores started selling excessive amounts of chocolate. It wouldn't do me any harm if that was the only change, but they also had whole sections of heart-shaped gifts and balloons, and I seriously thought it was a governmental conspiracy. My eyes ached from seeing too much red and pink covered in glitters.

The girls of the academy seemed to have their heads in the clouds, too. What they talked about didn't make much sense to me or interest me in the first place, but I noticed they were constantly talking about dates. The atmosphere became even crazier when we entered February.

I finally asked Cordelia what the big deal was about this event.

"Valentine's Day is like a romantic event where people take their partners out on dates and give them gifts," Cordelia answered after taking some moments to think. "…to show them how much they love them."

"Why don't they do that ev'ry day if they love 'em?"

She opened her mouth, only to close it again. A little smile was tagging at the corner of her lips. It was the kind of smile she gave when she tried to explain the most obvious stuff to me. She didn't understand why I didn't understand. I didn't understand why she thought it was such an easy concept to grasp.

"It's just, um," she spoke, pressing her lips together. "Sometimes it could be hard for people to do it every day. They have jobs, or they don't have the enough money. It is a special day for people like that."

"And the chocolate?" I asked her, with the black sweet candy in my hand and mouth.

"People give their loved ones chocolate. But you can buy it for yourself, of course." She added the last sentence after looking at my confused face.

Although I still didn't have much knowledge about Valentine's Day, the conservation satisfied me enough. Enough for me to let go of all the wondering. After this, I stood up and exited the room to make both of us tea.

The kitchen was uncharacteristically crowded with teenage girls (having Kyle cook for us, we usually didn't need to do anything in the part of the building). The girls were chatting and running around like excited little ducklings. Near the sink, Zoe was standing with two other girls.

"Hiya, what are you doing, guys?"

"Hi, Misty," Zoe shot me a soft smile, the other girls on her sides repeating her phrase. "We are making cookies for Valentine's Day."

There was a significant number of unbaked cookies on oven plates. At the center of the kitchen isles was two huge bowls, one containing plain cookie dough and the other chocolate dough. The girls had their hands all covered with the dough, and their faces showed more eagerness than when they were in class.

"Do you want to make some for yourself?" One of the girls asked me.

I beamed at her and nodded. It was one of the rare occasions where I got to interact with the girls outside class, and God knows I was desperate to blend in. I rinsed my hands after taking all of my rings off. I felt the uniquely firm texture with my palms. My mind was occupied with all the ideas to make the most delicious cookies. My hand reached for the bowl of nuts.

"Hold on," Zoe gently put her arm on mine and stopped my motion. "Cordelia is allergic to almonds, remember?"

My brain stopped computing for a second and I looked at her with confusion. I had no idea why she suddenly brought Cordelia up. Up to the moment, I was only thinking about me eating those cookies, and didn't think about Cordelia. I was hit by a wave of guilt and shame.

"Oh, right." I gave her a small smile and put the nuts back. I instead picked some chocolate chips and placed them carefully on my cookies, writing big Ms on some and Cs on others. This way, the girls would know those were mine and Cordelia's.

"So, is that all you are doing for this Valentine's Day, or are you taking her anywhere?"

I looked up and saw Madison, her smirk blatantly directed at me. She was so elusive and sneaky I didn't even realize when she'd entered the room. Perhaps I was way more caught up than I imagined.

"Who?" I raised my brows in confusion, which drew a snicker from Hollywood.

"Your precious Supreme, duh," she said it with her narrowed eyes while lighting a cigarette.

It was that look again, always making fun of me for not knowing stuff, mocking me as if I'm as slow as a turtle. Her smirk never left as she shushed Zoe, who'd told her to put out the cigarette.

"Don't tell me you haven't made your move yet."

"What move?"

My question made her roll her eyes. It irritated me even more when these eyes shifted to Zoe, who was standing next to her, as though she would know what it was about. And of course, she did.

"I thought you two were dating already," Zoe said to me with slight hesitation. But her voice contained more surprise than anything else.

"What? No, we aren't." I tried to speak without my Cajun accent, for I knew Madison would make fun of it too. My frown got deeper when I realized other girls around us seemed to be as surprised at my answer as Zoe. "Why do you think that?"

"Because you are obviously," Madison stressed out the last word. "…hot for each other. You practically fuck her with your eyes every time you land your eyes on your little Miss. Cordelia. I'm honestly so shocked that you've been able to keep your hands off her."

Her crude words caused Zoe to roll her eyes and other young girls to blush furiously. I, on the other hand, still had no idea how on earth this conversation had landed here.

Zoe cleared her throat and spoke: "Anyway, if you haven't told her how you feel, I think this would be a good opportunity. Why don't you buy her flowers and ask her out on a date? I won't be as vulgar as Madison," she glanced at Hollywood with a raised brow. "…but now that we know you two aren't dating, it's really clear to everyone that Cordelia's been waiting for you to make the first move."

I felt heat creeping up my face at her suggestions. I wouldn't have believed any of them if they'd come from Madison. It wasn't a rare occurrence that she gave me incorrect information, just to taunt me. But the way Zoe spoke and the girls around us were nodding in agreement made them sound so plausible.

 _Cordelia has feelings for me?_

Honestly, it'd never occurred to me.

"But I'm not." My stutter got worse, making me blush in a darker shade of red. "I- I don't see her like that. I mean I love her, but not like I wanna-"

"Oh cut the crap," Madison interrupted me. "There's no use trying to hide your true feelings. You aren't talented enough. Plus, we have clairvoyants in the house—Nan!"

She waved her manicured hand at the addressed clairvoyant, who was just about to walk past the room. Once she came closer, Hollywood took advantage of their height difference and wrapped her arm around Nan's neck.

Her voice sounded so patronizing when she said: "Tell me, Nan, is the swamp rat hot for Cordelia?"

Nan's eyes shifted from Madison to me, looking at me up and down as if to assess a property. My eyes stared at her with equal confusion and anxiousness, scared of what she might see inside of my head.

"Um…" Nan mumbled and averted her eyes from me, but it was apparently everything Hollywood needed to hear.

"Yeah, right. Thanks, Nan." She released her from her death grip. Nan wobbled at the sudden loss of contact, but it wasn't worth Madison's attention. "So, what are you gonna do, swampy? I doubt you have any plans. If you asked me oh-so-nicely, I might consider helping you out."

"Yeah, we are more than willing to help you. This is going to be fun!" Zoe exclaimed, her festive and romantic spirit showing.

And there was a chorus of cheers from the other girls, some of them already congratulating me on whatever was to come, as if this was their huge life event. Despite being still in the baffled state, it made me feel like I was truly one of them; for me, it was such a rare experience.

After they'd finally let me go, I went back to Cordelia's office with two cups of herbal tea. Sitting by the window with a cup on my lap, I mindlessly stared at the newly mowed lawn of the academy. When the weather was nicer, I would often go outside and feel the grass under my bare feet. I could easily spend hours doing that, listening to the wind, singing with birds, feeling the sun on my skin…and Cordelia would always be there with me, although she would just stay on the porch.

It instigated some strange sensation in my chest to look back at the past with the newly gained information of Cordelia. I wondered when she'd started to have feelings for me (if she ever had them, that is. But Madison made it a decided fact that she had a crush on me). The memories of us somehow had different colors now that my views on Cordelia had changed.

 _She likes me, in a romantic way._

Romance was always a thing in movies, books, or at least someone else's life. Something totally foreign to me. I'd never considered the possibility that it would happen to me one day. People say all women dreamed of finding their Princess Charming when they were younger. The idea of it never failed to bewilder me. My childhood solely consisted of playing outside until getting yelled at by my mother, befriending wild animals, creating my own constellations, and chasing away annoying boys…romance was never part of it.

Maybe this was because of my upbringing, I thought. My religious parents had sacrificed their entire lives in a way –until they decided to burn me at the stake– to make sure I would stay away from anything related to romance or sex.

" _You don't have to know anything. When the time comes, your husband will know what to do,_ " they used to tell me.

As much as Cordelia's and my lonely childhood had in common, she was never hidden from the reality. Her mom taught her about romance and sex, though not in a non-traumatizing way for a child.

I knew I was being unreasonable with her, but I felt a sense of betrayal, because she knew something I didn't know. The world appeared differently in our eyes, and to realize the fact felt like a needle poking at my heart. And those eyes, which once were blue and light brown, must've seen something in me that made her fall for me.

"Do ya have plans for this Valentine's Day?" I kept my head leaned against the window.

Cordelia briefly abandoned her paperwork and glanced at me. "No, I don't," she said casually before going back to work again.

"Do ya wanna go out with me?" My words flew out of my mouth before I could even stop. I felt blood withdraw from my face, but somehow my face was redder than an apple at the same time.

This wasn't the plan at all; in fact, Zoe and Madison had told me in the kitchen that I should ask her out when the cookies were ready. That should add extra fluff to our how-I-met-your-mother story and we would have more to tell our kids someday, they'd said. It was such a peculiar thing that they seemed to be showing more passion about _my_ life than I did. It was certainly not a bad feeling, and yet talking about kids even before all the dating thing wasn't even a decided thing felt too early.

Her brown eyes were wide and staring at me with complete disbelief, and I imagine I looked the same too.

"You mean, a date?" she asked, her cheeks starting to color. I gave her a nod, too astonished by myself to form any coherent sentences. My eyes examined Cordelia cautiously, and I saw her smile grow bigger, though still humbly shy, as she processed the proposition. "I'd love to. Absolutely," was all she mumbled.

Her brightest smile –a smile that could reach the edge of the world– was the proof that Zoe, Madison, and the girls were right. She'd been waiting for me to make change.

I shot her a smile too, but the muscles in my cheeks didn't seem to have enough power to lift the corners of my mouth. That's what nervousness did to me. All I wanted right there was to give her an equally dazzling smile, but my mind was already racing, desperate to find the girls and ask for help.


	3. Valentine's Day

"This dress is too small for me. It doesn't cover anything," I voiced my concern to Zoe and Madison, who sat outside my changing room of some extravagant store.

It was a black tight dress, barely reaching my knees. My shoulders were entirely exposed and there was also a long slit that went between my breasts. Even though I sometimes dressed in a revealing way, I was never accustomed to showing my upper body. The high heels Madison'd chosen were simply too much for my feet to handle; I didn't think I could walk a few steps without fracturing my ankles.

"Ah, no, it's definitely not small enough," Hollywood sauntered closer and commented. "You need a tighter and flashier dress. That doesn't accentuate your legs and tits enough."

"No, I'm gonna freeze to death if I wear something smaller than this."

My protest earned an exacerbated sigh from her. She turned her heel and disappeared without a word. It seemed like, since the money was coming from her wallet, she was thinking she had a say in which dress I'd be wearing.

"Don't worry, you look really gorgeous," Zoe assured me from behind.

"Don't you think it's too much, though?"

"Are you kidding me? This is exactly what you need! Cordelia will melt into a puddle of goo as soon as she sees your legs."

I locked my eyes with hers through the mirror. Although I appreciated their help, it tangled something up in my heart every time they mentioned my legs and how Cordelia would not be able to take her eyes off them. It had never occurred to me that she ever looked at me that way.

 _Is that what people call sexy?_ I crooked my head at my exposed legs in the mirror.

The keen voice of Madison came from behind, and I found her standing there with something red in her hands.

"Alright, swampy, if that's your choice of dress, at least you have to look impeccable when you _lose_ it. I bet you are wearing a white bra and panties like grandmas would wear. I'm telling you, Cordelia deserves better than that."

"What- what are these?" My mouth dropped at the underwear dangling in front of my face.

"They are crotchless panties!"

"I- I like my crotched panties. Thank you."

I didn't understand why she was so obsessed with them. How would they even function as underwear if there wasn't a cloth covering your most important part? Plus, I didn't think Cordelia would want to take things that quickly. She knew what kind of underwear I had anyways.

"Boo, you are no fun," Madison hissed.

"Stop it, Madison. She looks great," Zoe reprimanded her softly. Her charcoal eyes twinkled at me and she said: "You look amazing. It will be an amazing date."

I answered with a nod of my head.

ooOooOoo

The academy had different atmosphere on the day of love. The girls, regardless of whether or not they had dates, enjoyed helping one another put on makeup and giving compliments. In my case, Zoe and Queenie helped me with everything from makeup to hair, while Madison still tirelessly complained about my 'ancient' underwear.

My initial plan was to pick some flowers from my swamp garden and make a bouquet for Cordelia, but Madison said it was a poor choice. In her luxurious, emotionless world, everything had to be store-bought to please other people. I wanted to protest, but she pulled the unfair card and pointed at the fact that I knew nothing about dating.

Queenie offered to run to the flower shop down the street, which I eventually accepted, though with reluctance. The bouquet of red roses was the oldest trick in the book, so cheesy that I even knew. But the smile Cordelia gave me when I handed her the flowers was worth a million dollars. I couldn't help but wonder if she would've smiled the same way if it'd been my garden flowers.

The place Madison had gotten us a reservation was some incredibly expensive French restaurant on the other side of the town. The sophisticated atmosphere and the people set my nerves on edge. I was very aware it wasn't my place. My fingers played with the hem of my dress. I stole a glance at Cordelia, who was seated on the other side of the table.

Fortunately or unfortunately, there was an equal level of uneasiness displayed on her face. Her black manicured fingers kept tucking a strand of the blonde hair behind her ear and undoing it; one of the many nervous habits of hers. It felt odd to see her feeling uncomfortable in such a place. Unlike me, who grew up in a small village where there was not even a decent diner, Cordelia was accustomed to fancy places like this. I didn't know at that time, but she was nervous for different reasons, of course.

On the way home, the air between us was much lighter thanks to alcohol, and we enjoyed the tranquility of the winter night.

Some guys whistled at us across the street, shouting something obscene while showing their grossly yellow cigarette-stained teeth. I frowned at their sexist remarks, ready to go punch those guys in the face. But before I could do anything, their mouths abruptly shut as if glued together. They turned around like powerless marionettes, and went back into the tavern. I heard giggles and shifted my attention back to Cordelia. She wiggled her brows playfully, and I immediately knew she'd used mind control on them. My widened eyes contained disbelief, but I couldn't help chuckling at her mischief.

Cordelia was gorgeous that night, as always. Her curled hair looked like a golden waterfall bouncing around her shoulders. Her long-sleeved white dress ended just above the knees, and the upper half of the dress was decorated with delicate black lacy flowers. Her black high heels weren't as ridiculously high as mine, which made our height difference even more apparent. The street lights shone on her eyelashes and cast soft shadows on her cheeks. Yes, she looked absolutely stunning.

"It was a lovely night. Thank you for taking me out," she spoke in a tone I wasn't so familiar with.

It was the way she kept her eyes off me that made me think it wasn't the Cordelia I knew. She had her bottom lip between her teeth, child-like giggles spilling out. Usually, discovering new aspects of her felt more exhilarating than listening to a new song of Fleetwood Mac. But this part of her somehow got me flustered, like there was a tumor in my body but nobody could tell if it was malignant or benign.

"Thank _you_ for comin' with me. I don't think they'd let a hippie like me in if I ever went there by maself."

"That's not true. I mean," Cordelia laughed softly. "You should've seen their faces when you walked through the place. Everyone, I mean _everyone_ , couldn't take their eyes off you. You look like a goddess in that dress."

At the last sentence, Cordelia shut her mouth, her eyes wide. I thought her face was flushing, but under the dim lights of the academy's porch, it was rather hard to tell. She cleared her throat and bit her lip, and those eyes were boring into mine. The silence suddenly grew heavy around us. I don't know why, but my auditory sense got intense and I could hear even the slightest sounds. A baby crying somewhere in the town, dogs barking at the wind, cabs carrying drunken husbands… my heart beating like a drum.

We stood at the door like that. To be honest, I was quite puzzled why we weren't going in; Cordelia made no sign of reaching for the doorknob. She just kept her eyes on my face. And then, it hit me that maybe she was waiting for me to open the door for her.

" _The hunt doesn't end until you go home with the prey,"_ Madison'd advised me. Of course, it was only later that I realized what she actually meant and what a sexual metaphor it was. In the moment, with my overdriving brain, I just thought I should be the one leading the date until the end of it.

I turned the knob and pushed the door open, careful not to make much noise, before stepping aside to let Cordelia walk in first. I admit, my heart swelled with pride because of the soft smile Cordelia gave me. The date had many flaws in retrospect, but in the instant, finally closing the door of our bedroom behind us, I felt like it was the most successful date I could ever manage.

Now, it was difficult to determine when the date was supposed to end. In usual cases like the ones you see on TV, two people say goodbye and separate, and that's it. Even if they happen to live in the same building, there's a point where they have to go back to their own rooms. But we not only lived in the same house, but we also shared a bedroom. So, you can see the confusion I was experiencing.

It was only when I took off the dress and the high heels did I finally feel relaxed. As much as I wanted to make the night perfect for Cordelia, the fancy attire made me feel like a prisoner. Laying on the mattress, I absentmindedly counted the stain spots on the ceiling. My body felt like a chunk of metal sinking in water. It was an accumulation of stress from being out of my comfort zone for such a long time. I didn't bother when my eyelids became too heavy. My lullaby was the faint sounds Cordelia was making on the other side of the bathroom door.

ooOooOoo

Next morning I woke up with unfamiliar discomfort. I realized I'd fallen asleep without washing my face last night. Needless to say I didn't own any cleansing products, so I had to borrow some of the stuff Cordelia kept in the bathroom. It apparently takes some skills to take off such thick makeup, and I still had mascara residues around my eyes when I entered the kitchen for branch.

With the fatigue from last night still lingering, I stood by the window while making tea.

"So, how was everything last night?" Queenie came up to me and asked. There wasn't as clear smugness on her face as Madison would show, but she still looked eager.

I answered with a shrug. "Good, I think."

"Did you kiss Miss. Cordelia?" Another girl, who wasn't older than ten, enthusiastically joined the conversation.

"Wha- no, I didn't," I stuttered at the sudden question and felt my face get warmer. But when I think about it now, I really should've expected questions like that. People can be crude, sometimes without even realizing their crudity. Children especially, but some people never grow out of it.

"Leave her alone, Jackie," Queenie gently chided the girl. "Misty will tell you if she wants you to know."

The little girl nodded coyly before walking away, smiling apologetically at me.

"Do ya think I should have?" I sighed out as took a bite of a bagel.

Queenie was the only girl aside from Cordelia who I could talk to with my accent. There was no need to worry about being mocked for the way I talked. We were similar in a sense that we both felt alienated in the coven. Our upbringings were different from others. We were the only ones among the old members of the coven who weren't in relationships. It made me feel oddly safe when I was with her.

"Nah, there was no obligation for you to do that. Cordelia knows it."

"Good. I just- Zoe thinks I should go ahead 'n kiss Miss. Cordelia. And Madison…sex is the only thin' she ever talks about."

"Don't listen to what they say. They are two gossipy, horny teenagers. You are the only one who knows what you want."

"I know they mean well."

"Of course, they do. At least Zoe does. The other one is just enjoying torturing you."

"Queenie?"

"Yeah?"

There was a moment of silence, Queenie waiting for me to speak, while I watched the ripples inside my mug cup.

"I don't feel like..." I struggled to get my words out. "I don't know how- I can't imagine myself kissing or having sex with Miss. Cordelia."

Even long after I said this, I couldn't raise my gaze, scared of what I might see. I could handle disappointment, but it made me feel incredibly small when people looked at me with bewilderment and astonishment. They looked at me like I was a freak for not wanting what they did. Kissing, having sex, I never felt such desires.

I felt like a freak, more than when I discovered my witchy powers.

"Well…you gotta give yourself a break, Misty," Queenie simply uttered. Her voice was soothing to my confused heart, which caused my body to loosen up. Her dark eyes met mine, and she gave me a smile before saying: "When the right time comes, you'll know. There's no rush. Cordelia knows this is your first relationship, right? Then there's nothing to worry about."

My heart sank at that, even though her face showed nothing but tenderness and understanding. I felt like a lost child among compassionate adults who tried everything to find her parents. Little did they know, the child didn't have parents, or a place to call home.

It was when I decided Queenie would never completely understand my worries. The time might come, but what if it didn't? Would I break Cordelia's heart? Would that be the only way for me, if the 'time' never came?

Those were the thoughts that kept me awake at night for a while since this conversation with Queenie.

But the way Cordelia smiled or held me at night never changed. There was the same warmth in her eyes I saw before the Valentine's Day. And I, projecting my own hope, thought maybe there wasn't any romantic tension between us to begin with.

Maybe this whole thing was something the girls made up for their entertainment. Cordelia'd had a pretty lonely life until I came to the coven. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I was the only close friend she ever had. The girls must've confused our intense friendship with something very different, I thought.

It was true there were some moments where Cordelia smiled rather sadly, wanting to say something before deciding against it. I ignored those moments, for I feared I'd lose what we had right in the moment. I said to myself she would tell me if she wanted more than a friendship.

But it was hurting Cordelia, and I suppose that was my fault.


	4. Everywhere

I hummed to Fleetwood Mac as I tended to the plants in the greenhouse. It was about two weeks after the Valentine's Day. I'd admit I was beginning to forget about all the things that had happened. Beginning to think it was just a dream. My mind and heart returned to their normal peaceful state.

At one point I abandoned the watering can and started to twirl among the plants. I don't remember how long I was dancing, but when the song finished, I realized Cordelia was standing in the doorway. She was leaning against the door frame, with her eyes tenderly set on me. Her smile was contagious, as always.

"Hey, it ain't nice to be spyin' on someone like that." I scrunched my nose up.

"Sorry," she chuckled at my teasing. "You just looked so happy dancing to Stevie I couldn't possibly interrupt."

"Ya say that, but I know ya love watchin' me dance."

My cocky remark made her shake her head. "Perhaps I do."

The brown eyes twinkled playfully, and I wiggled my brows in response. Before the Seven Wonders, when she'd found me twirling by myself in the greenhouse for the first time, I'd almost turned into a ball of fire from blushing too hard. I wasn't used to having people around back then, let alone having someone watch me dance. It wasn't just that. It was Cordelia, who was the most awesome person I've ever gotten to know. It was the fact that she paid attention to me, to my passion. She'd made me believe every step of mine had meaning in the world. I was overwhelmed and flattered by the way she would look at me. The feeling may have faded away, but I still could feel it.

The song changed and I was pulled out of my recollection. The intro of _Everywhere_ started playing. I squealed, taking Cordelia's hands instantaneously.

 _Can you hear me calling out your name?_

 _You know that I'm falling, and I don't know what to say_

 _I'll speak a little louder, or I'll even shout_

 _You know that I'm proud and I can't get the words out_

Christine's sweet and strong voice vibrated in my ears, making my hips sway to the rhythm of the drums. I sang along, my cheeks hurt from grinning too much. The song sounded better when Cordelia was listening to me. It was her thing, to bring perfection out of every song, or anything for that matter. A magical thing only she was capable of.

She didn't see herself much of a dancer, but I made her dance with me anyway. I knew she secretly loved it when I grabbed her hands and made her spin.

 _Oh I…I wanna be with you everywhere_

 _Oh I…I wanna be with you everywhere_

I kept my eyes on her, and I swear it was the happiest moment of my life.

As the song begun to fade out, I pulled our bodies closer and buried my face in the base of her neck. I continued humming quietly in her ear until the end of the song. Her arms around my waist made me feel safe, so protected. Her embrace was like an egg shell. Every time, I would be reborn in her arms. That feeling, I thought, was worth all the ordeals I'd ever gone through.

The music player was playing another song, and I pulled my body gently from hers. Out of habit, I tucked a strand of her silky blonde hair behind her ear, before cupping her cheek. Typically, she would give me a teasing smirk or a head shake, but something was different with her that time, different with the air she carried around. Her mouth was slightly agape without any hint of glee, her eyes kept boring into mine. I'd seen the expression, on the night of Valentine's Day. I still didn't know what to make of it.

I let out a nervous chuckle, for there was no better way I could think of to break the unfamiliar awkwardness in the atmosphere. "Oh, hey, um," I struggled to keep my demeanor normal. "Look at this. It's the plant ya wanted me ta resurrect, yeah? I tried a new incantation this time. I think it grew back bigger than its normal size. Whatdaya think?"

As I spoke with the plant in my hands, I felt the excitement wash over the odd tension in the room. At least that's how I felt, but when I examined Cordelia's face, there remained a hint of hesitation.

"Misty?"

"Yeah?"

Cordelia didn't reply quickly. Her eyes were fixed on my face, as if determined to burn a hole there. She looked scared, like she wasn't sure whether or not she should keep staring at me. I could see a war going on inside her.

"What is it, Miss. Cordelia?" I took her hands, a gesture of offering comfort. "Ya know ya can tell me anythin'."

A small smile, a really tiny smile momentarily appeared on her lips before quickly replaced by a grimace. More seconds ticked by in silence, and she finally whispered: "What is this? What are we doing?"

"I don't follow." It was an honest question. I never meant it to escape this situation or disregard her feelings.

"You don't follow," she repeated me, her eyes suddenly glued to the floor.

Nothing more was added to it, and I was left with an intense sense of guilt. Only I didn't know what my crime was.

ooOooOoo

Cordelia had left me in the greenhouse after telling me to forget it, but that was all I could think about. More haunting was the expression on her face; it seemed like a mixture of dejection and acceptance. I'd never seen her like that before.

Sitting at the kitchen table by myself, I stared at the bottom of my mug cup as though the answer was written there.

 _What is this?_ – What is what?

 _What are we doing?_ – Weren't we dancing? Wasn't that what we were doing?

As clueless as I ever was, it was clear those weren't the answers Cordelia wanted. Her eyes'd said something else. "She wanted to know if you two were dating." The voice of Nan interrupted my train of thoughts.

"But, I thought there wasn't any-"

"Oh, she likes you that way. She likes you plenty. Like, her thoughts especially get louder at night. Lots of fantasies going on in her head with you in her arms." She looked at me as she sat next to me in the kitchen. "People aren't as innocent as you think they are. Cordelia isn't an exception."

I had nothing to say in response. She was right; I always assumed, or maybe some part of me hoped, that the way people saw things was no different than mine. But the world always, and brutally, proved me wrong. When we were at the mall, for instance, I didn't know why others looked at the guy with a man bun with such reverie. And now that I knew Cordelia saw me the same way the girls saw the guy, I was knocked down by how lonely I was in this world. I was a black sheep too naive for the world full of white sheep with tainted thoughts.

"I just don't know what to do," my thoughts spilled out of my mouth.

Madison walked into the kitchen and asked: "What are you two virgins talking about?"

"I'm not a virgin! You just say that because Luke finds me hotter than you."

"Whatever," Hollywood scowled at Nan, before shifting her attention to me. "What do you just not know, swampy? How to please your little girlfriend in bed? because I can get you some lingerie you can fit in, or if you need toys-"

"They haven't even kissed yet, Madison. Miss. Cordelia still thinks they are just friends," Nan cut Hollywood off.

This was exactly the reason why I'd been trying my best to avoid Madison. I knew she'd be asking all sorts of inappropriate questions as though my life was a gossip magazine. Nobody, even Madison herself, thought she was being kind and generous when 'helping me out'. Everything existed to satisfy her boredom, her thirst for someone else's misery and struggles. My relationship with Cordelia was a game for her to complete.

"Hold the fuck on." Sure enough, Madison showed great enthusiasm. Her face almost looked offended. "Are you telling me you haven't done anything at all? I mean, I always knew you were a prude, so I didn't expect you to screw her senseless against the wall on the first date. But not even a kiss? Come on."

"I take things as slowly as I want. Miss. Cordelia would understand," I mumbled with my brows knotted together. It sounded like an excuse, and I hated it. There was no reason I should justify anything to her or anyone.

"Yeah, right. If she waited for you to be in the mood, she would need more than one lifetime. Do you wanna stay a virgin until you are 90?"

"I didn't say that."

"And what does that even mean she still thinks you two are friends? How bad do you have to fuck up to make her think it was nothing but a friendly dinner?" Her voice increased its volume as she spoke. I could see she was so confused that she was almost panicky. "You gave her flowers, in the tight dress, didn't you? Didn't you tell her it was a _date_? Or did I dream about everything? Or…or hallucinate it, because I don't remember taking any drugs that day!"

I let out a heavy sigh, fighting the urge to bang my head against the kitchen table. This nonsense was surely getting out of hand. At this point, it wouldn't have surprised me if she'd faked an accident and set the entire wardrobes of me and Cordelia on fire, just so we would have to be naked.

"Listen, I know I've been really pushy lately, but I know Cordelia," Madison asserted with suddenly serious demeanor. "She might be an altruistic woman by nature, but she wouldn't have blinded herself if it wasn't for you. Think about that." Putting out her cigarette, she looked me straight in the eye. "I meant what I said before. She deserves better than that."

With that, Madison walked out of the room, leaving me with Nan. Even after she was long gone, I continued to glare in the direction, thinking somehow I could make her stumble on something by using mind control or something.

I'd never imagined the day I would say this; but Madison had a point. My life would've ended in the coffin if Cordelia hadn't found me (although neither of us would've had to suffer if Madison hadn't buried me alive). She gave me a place to call home, taught me who I was and what I could do, and even saved me from hell. I remember the classroom, the laugh of the heartless children, and the feeling of the scalpel buried deep in the frog's belly, over and over again. I followed her voice and the light, even after getting out of the hell. Every day, every minute, she led me through.

Madison was right, Cordelia deserved better than this. But the idea of her desiring me when she deserved the whole universe was overwhelming to say the least.

ooOooOoo

I knew my thoughts were loud because Nan was glaring at me at the dinner table. But how could I stop thinking? Can a person control another person not to think by using Concilium? That would be nice for both me and Nan.

Even after the entire coven had gone to sleep, my mind was racing. I went on the balcony to feel the fresh air of the night. The winter breeze swirled around my body. Resting my head against the wall, I watched the stars in the sky.

There was a shooting star, leaving its trail across the dark canvas. _How funny life can be_ , I thought. In my childhood, I made all sorts of wishes on the starts. Having a pet, becoming a singer, befriending fairies, living in a castle…those were my childhood wishes.

All I wanted now was to make Cordelia happy.

"Misty," the voice of my dearest person pulled me back to earth. Her brown eyes smiled tenderly at me. "I'm going to bed. I wanted to say goodnight."

"Oh, I actually should, too," I mumbled as I stood up.

Cordelia shut the glass door behind me. The cold air radiated from my skin and clothes, and she formed a little concerned smile. "You must be really cold. What were you doing out there?"

"Thinkin'."

"And your hair is damp," she stated with knotted eyebrows. Her hand reached for my moist curls, but she hesitated to actually touch me.

"I showered."

"Misty, you'll catch a cold if you go outside while your hair is still wet." She sounded just like when she chided kids. With her small frown, she retreated to the bathroom, only to come back with a hair dryer in her hand. "Come here." She sat on the bed and patted the spot in front of her.

While the hair dryer was screaming in my ears, I watched Cordelia's reflection in the mirror of the vanity. She had her hair down, and wearing her glasses. Ascending to the Supremacy had promised her radiant health, but apparently her poor vision could only be fixed by Lasik surgery. The glasses were one of the many insecurities she had; they made her look extra nerdy, according to her. She had no idea how adorable they looked on her.

"I had a neighbor who had a dog when I was a child," Cordelia spoke behind me after turning off the machine. Her hands played with my golden curls that still contained some moisture. "I think he was a Cocker Spaniel. Quite old but had such nice, shiny golden hair. Fiona hated it when I'd come home with dog hair all over my clothes." A few quite laugh escaped her lips. "Your hair reminds me of him."

I didn't know what to make of the story. Perhaps she intended to cheer me up.

"I love ya," I said to her reflection under my breath. Her eyes met mine through the mirror. Turning around, I found the same pair of brown eyes, and I repeated myself. "I love you."

The phrase wasn't foreign to either of us, but there was a hint of something new. It might be because, I thought, the words no longer had the innocence we'd shared since the beginning of our friendship.

My hand rose to cup her cheek, just like I'd done hundreds times before. Only this time, for the first time, I didn't let go. My lips gently touched Cordelia's, and I felt her hands on my shoulders, clinging to me as if for her dear life.

With her in my arms, I felt her tremble like a fragile bird that she was.


	5. A Baby Turtle

**As always, thanks for your support, my lovely nerds!**

* * *

Her lips felt so warm and soft against mine. My mama used to give me kisses on the cheek when I was a little kid, but her lips were dry and coarse, nothing to compare to Cordelia's.

"I love you. I love you," between the kisses Cordelia whispered.

Her tiny figure trembled again. I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her body closer, and then I realized; it wasn't Cordelia who was quivering. It was me. Maybe for the first time in my life, I was truly scared of something.

Cordelia breathed out more words of affection, but I had no way to reply as hot tears rolled down my cheeks. With my eyes closed, I rested my forehead against hers.

"I love you." She kissed my wet cheeks. The words trembled out of her mouth, and I knew she was sobbing too.

There was no more confession to make, or words to exchange. We slept with each other in our arms, feeling our hearts beat in unison. Cordelia would sometimes squeeze my body tightly in her sleep, burying her face in my wild strands. But my heart was drumming in my ears too loudly for me to bear. It wasn't until the sky started to light up did I finally fall asleep.

ooOooOoo

The first a few days since the night got me awkward and confused. Cordelia seemed to behave with more eagerness and confidence around me. There was no hesitation when she would pull me into hugs. There was no sorry smiles. I never figured out how to react to this new part of her. There was this childishness in her eyes, so to speak, when she kissed or just looked me in the eye. But as time passed, I'd learned to mimic her behavior, learned to pick up what she needed from me in certain moments.

I'd been working in the greenhouse since that morning, and I figured it'd be nice to spread my wings a bit in Cordelia's office. God knows she can't relax unless someone half-forces her to. I made two cups of tea and grabbed a few cookies before walking to her office.

It was somewhere in March. Though the winter had lost its harshness, it was still chilly in the academy building. The sunlight wasn't enough for those heavenly white walls. Opening the office's door, I shivered as the air caressed my exposed arms. Cordelia was sitting at her desk as usual, but there was a guest on the other side of it. In the chair sat a man. The brunet guy was about Cordelia's age, medium built, probably taller than me. His blue-grey eyes momentarily locked with mine.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know ya had a guest," I stammered as I awkwardly shifted my weight from one foot to the other, unsure of what to do. My face flushed slightly when I realized my accent had slipped out. "I will come back, sorry."

I shut the door behind me without letting Cordelia speak. The sound of my heels clacking against the marble floor bounced against white walls around me.

With two of the empty cups on the kitchen table (because I drunk them both), I mindlessly sunk my teeth in one of the cookies. Its crumbs fell on my lap, but I didn't bother to remove them. There was a large window next to me, and I looked outside behind the sheer curtain.

Some of the younger girls were playing on the lawn, practicing what they'd learned in class. Their little feet carried their bodies with such ease. They made me think of my childhood days. It was such a simple time, no one to judge how I lived, everything I chose was encouraged.

"We'll love ya no matter what ya choose to do with yer life," my mama used to tell me. I wondered how she was doing in the small village, a place where people were so blindly happy, assuming their way was the truth. I didn't hate them, even though they'd burned me alive. There was only pity in my heart for them. Those people would spend their whole lives, without knowing what's out there. I felt sorry for them. I felt sorry for mama.

While the old memories still on my mind, I caught a silhouette out of the corner of my eyes. It was the guy I'd seen in Cordelia's office. They had finished their meeting apparently, and he was walking out of the academy.

"Oh my god, did you look at the guy? He was smoking hot." Out of the blue, Madison appeared with her usual obnoxious crudeness.

I quickly stood up to go to Cordelia's office, fully aware Hollywood would get me involved in her 'game' if I'd stayed. But my attempt failed when she blocked my way, her head titled to the side with cockiness.

"What's up with the long face, swamp rat? I know you were watching him. Didn't you find him hot?" A huge smirk was painted on her face. "Oh, wait. I'm sorry, I forgot you were fucking our Supreme."

Embarrassed and offended, I felt heat creeping up my neck. "What- no, I'm not." I spat out, though I knew I should've kept my mouth shut.

"Girl, leave her alone," Queenie defended me from behind. Her eyes were fixed on the stuff in the fridge.

"Get the fuck out," Madison said to me, waving her hand in front of her face, ignoring Queenie. "Don't tell me you two are still galpals."

"No, but-"

"But what? You haven't fucked her yet?" Her wide eyes examined my face, while I remained silent. It didn't matter whether I stayed quiet or not. There was no need for words. "Oh my fucking Jesus H. Christ. How long have you been dating? 5 years?"

"Just about a months, but it's none of your business."

"Um, excuse me. It is _my_ business if someone in this coven has been cockblocked for a month, or should I say vagected."

"Madison, I swear to god," Queenie sighed out exasperatedly behind us. "You talk too much shit. Why don't you go suck someone's dick so you couldn't speak?"

Hollywood simply gave her a snicker. "Oh, please. Stop acting like you don't wanna know what's going on."

"There's nothing to know. It's between me and Miss. Cordelia." I firmly stated, tired of the intrusive remarks, tired of the childish argument between the other two.

There was a moment of silence after I said this. I could see fascination in Madison's eyes. In retrospect, I think she was wondering how I was still calling Cordelia with her title.

"Whatever. But don't ever think Cordelia is satisfied with the current status. She's thirsty as fuck."

"…What does that mean?"

"It means she can't tear her eyes off your legs when you wear a dress like that." Her finger pointed vaguely at my exposed limbs. "…imagining all sorts of dirty fantasies."

My hands formed fists at the implication. The information wasn't entirely new to me; Nan had told me the same thing before. But the way Madison spoke, as though she knew everything, set my nerves on edge. She was insulting me and Cordelia. Another stupid game.

In the heat of rage and frustration, I stormed out of the room, almost knocking Hollywood down. Queenie started to quarrel with her again, but my head was too occupied to care what was happening behind me.

I remained quiet even after I'd walked into the office. My body tense, I leaned against the door.

"Hi again, did you want something?" Cordelia, with her focus on the papers, asked me.

"No, I was just…gonna get ya tea but I forgot it in the kitchen." My shoulders slumped with disappointment as soon as I realized. Stupid me. Stupid Madison.

"Oh, that's fine, I suppose," she let out a chuckle before taking some steps toward me, planting small kisses on my lips. "As long as you are here with me." Another kiss. But her smile faded into a slight grimace when she finally noticed my knotted brows. "What's wrong?" I didn't answer. "Misty?"

I tried so hard not to let sighs escape my lungs. "It's nothin'. Just stupid stuff."

"It's not stupid if it's upsetting you." Her fingers tucked some of my wild strands behind my ear. "What is it?"

"Madison said some nasty things ta me." I bit my bottom lip, avoiding eyes contact with her. I crossed my arms in front of me, an unconscious gesture to protect myself. "Ya don't hate me for not…goin' further than kissin', do ya?"

A short moment of silence followed, Cordelia finally gathering what was the matter. It felt like an eternity to me, until Cordelia said: "No, of course not. You know I'll wait as long as you need me to."

"Yeah," I laughed bitterly. "…but Madison is kinda makin' it hard ta believe."

I still couldn't gather the courage to look up. I heard Cordelia let out a sigh. Then her hand grabbed mine, and I was led to sit in a chair. She kept our hands connected as she seated herself in the other chair next to me.

"I remember the moment I fell in love with you." Her voice was low and careful. "You took my hand with your shaky hands, and I saw your soul. I felt it. And I knew you were going to be the most important person in my life, that you were going to change my life completely and get me out of my darkness." She momentarily stopped and chuckled, at the irony of it, I believe. "And I was right, wasn't I? Every moment that followed was simply a proof of how our paths were meant to cross. I didn't believe in fate before you. But you made me think that maybe, maybe it exists." I finally raised my gaze, and was met with her eyes. They were shiny, like the night we'd shared a kiss for the first time. "I've never been so deeply in love with anyone before. I felt like a teenager again. My own heart scared me because, I didn't know what I'd do if this feeling was one-sided.

"I've spent every one of my waking moments wishing for this, for us. I can wait a little longer. And I don't care how long I'll have to wait."

Listening to her voice, I found myself recollecting memories of us, like we were both walking through a gallery of our story. When I'd met her in the empty hallway, I'd seen myself in her. Helpless and lost, but still trying to stand tall. I thought I'd found the academy, but in reality, it was the other way around. Like baby turtles know by their instinct to go back to the ocean, I somehow knew where to go back. It was those bicolored eyes that made me feel safe inside. And it was the moment in the greenhouse when I decided to call those eyes my tribe.

There was nothing for me to say, so I stared at our connected hands rested in my lap. I watched how Cordelia stretched her arm over the armrests between us so my arm wouldn't get tired. I watched how she managed to position herself in the chair so our knees wouldn't bump into each other.

She loved me, extremely so. And it was overwhelming.


	6. Lost Innocence

_To the gypsy that remains_

 _Faces freedom with a little fear…I have no fear_

 _I only have love_

 _And if I was a child, and the child was enough_

 _Enough for me to love_

 _Enough to love_

I absentmindedly hummed as Stevie's raspy voice sang powerfully in my ears.

It was a sunny day in the middle of April. The spring weather didn't offer us many pleasantly warm days, but this day was different. I had decided to spend some time outside, just in an attempt to run away from the hectic hell that was the academy. Since Cordelia had welcomed more girls into the coven, not a single day could go without any drama. If Madison wasn't causing any trouble, then someone else was. Cordelia and other teachers would say they'd gotten used to it. Not me. It was moments like these that made me realize how much I missed my peaceful life in the swamp.

Despite the moderate temperature, the sun was roasting my skin. I sat under a tree, feeling the wind stroke my curls, feeling the grass underneath me tickle my bare legs.

With my headphones on, I held a sketchbook in my hands. The intensity of my concentration caused my brows to knot together slightly as the pencil danced across the paper. I was drawing the academy's door and working on the statue that stood at the bottom of the stairs. I never considered myself as an artist. It was just my hobby I'd started when I had nothing but Stevie back then.

Out of thin air, someone appeared from the corner of my eye, effectively making me flinch in surprise. I stared at the wiggly line I'd just drawn by accident. I glanced at Zoe, who was sitting next to me. Her brown eyes contained enough curiosity to get two or three cats killed. While my heart still pounded in my chest, I raised my hands to take my headphones off.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I tried to get your attention, but…" She gestured at the electric device that now rested around my neck. An apologetic smile on her face.

"Nah, it's alright." I straightened my back in an effort to calm myself down.

"I didn't know you could draw. It looks amazing."

"Thanks," I halfheartedly uttered while I rubbed out the accidental trail of graphite.

"Do you only draw inanimate objects, or do you do people also?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Have you drawn Cordelia before?"

"Oh, no. I've never done that."

"You should," she spoke in a voice that almost got swept away by the wind. "She'll love it."

I gave her a tiny nod before going back to the sketch. I didn't know how to reply to the perplexing comments, and something told me Zoe wasn't so invested in the topic, either. We sat in silence, listening to the chorus of birds and wind. The sun had moved in the sky, and I was no longer in shades.

"How's everything going with Cordelia?" Zoe attempted to start another conversation.

"We are doing ok."

She answered with a nod. It was obvious she was tense. I suspected it was something she wanted to continue to talk about, that it was why she'd come to me. But there was no way to know how to keep the talk going. I remained silent.

After awkwardly stretching out her legs, Zoe confessed: "We are having a fight at the moment."

"Who?"

"Me and Kyle."

"Oh, right."

"He's been trying to get me to apologize first, but I'm not going to. It wasn't my fault." She shrugged as her eyes were fixed on her toes. "He said I was flirting with the guy at the supermarket. It's not true at all. Like, I literally just asked him where the pasta aisle was because he _worked_ there. That's all, but Kyle decided to make a big deal out of it, while we were _still_ in the supermarket. I mean, ugh."

I stared at the white part of the paper. The blank space mirrored my brain as I sought the _correct_ response. But my effort failed miserably, so I settled with a grunt.

"Have you had your first fight with Cordelia yet?" Being an oblivious girl that she was, Zoe didn't get any hint from my body language. This conversation didn't interest me in any way. I answered the question with a headshake nonetheless. Her facial expression softened and she said: "You are in it for the world of fun."

I could tell the sarcastic tone of her remark, yet everything else remained puzzling. I fiddled with the pencil, wanting to resume the sketch.

"The first fight is always important," Zoe spoke again. "Ours was over Madison, of course."

"I never argue with Miss. Cordelia."

"For now, sure. The beginning of a relationship is always sweet and lovely. Everything is perfect. Cuddling, chatting, sharing ice cream, getting drunk together…you know, that stuff. But after you get out of honeymoon phase, there will be a time when these things won't be enough."

"But we were doing them before we started…" I choked on words and vaguely waved my hand."… _this thing_."

"Yeah, but everything has different meaning when you are in a relationship, don't you think?"

I wanted to say no. _No, the change in our relationship shouldn't change anything else_. But who was I kidding? I would be only speaking for myself. It would be a lie. I've seen Cordelia's eyes when I pulled her close for a hug. And the way her cheeks would color when our hands touched. I felt her insistent grip around my waist when we embraced. We never changed our routines or anything. The way we interacted with each other was still the same. Yet something was different, I hated to admit. There were expectations in her every action.

Or maybe those so-called changes weren't new at all. Perhaps that was how Cordelia had been acting since the beginning and I was only starting to see it. But once I noticed them, there was no path to go back to the obliviousness. The innocence was forever lost. Once a canvas is tainted, you can't paint it back to the original state. You can try and cover the stains with a white paint over and over again. It might look the same as before if you use the correct shade of white. But will the surface ever feel the same, if you run your fingertips over it? I could try and pretend to be still innocent, but that would be all; just pretending. I could never go back to the time when everything in my world was made of purity.

I looked up, from the black and white academy in my sketchbook to the sapphire sky above me. The wind was strong and the clouds swam in the ocean sky, as if they'd had it all figured out. I envied them.

Zoe didn't say anything further, neither did I. While the wind roared in my ears, I could hear the faint music leaking from the headphones around my neck.

 _Oh, mirror in the sky…what is love?_

 _Can the child within my heart rise above?_

 _Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?_

 _Can I handle the seasons of my life?_

 _Mmm…I don't know._

ooOooOoo

The summer had begun. Though it still required thick blankets at night, the heat was irritating during the day.

The sun was merciless above our heads, grilling the whole city of New Orleans. As I followed Cordelia in the parking lot of a shopping mall, I could feel the skin of my exposed limbs getting burned bit by bit. I had spent almost my entire life surrounded by trees and dirt. The heat coming from the concrete under my feet was excruciating. They say big cities are better than swamps, which I strongly disagree. Back in the marsh, I could just strip down and dive into the water.

"Miss. Cordelia, it's too hot out here. I'm gonna melt. I'm gonna melt right here."

Cordelia chuckled at my whiny voice. "We are almost there. It's cooler inside."

She took my hand and we walked into the building. Freezing air caressed my skin the moment the automatic doors opened before us. I shivered visibly, wrapping my thin shawl around the shoulders. It reminded me of North Pole, though I'd never been there.

"This place is too cold. I'm gonna turn into a snow man in here."

A string of quiet giggles escaped her lips. She scrunched her nose up and we both laughed at my remarks.

"Fine, you goof. Let's make it quick and go home, shall we?"

I grinned at her endearment before giving her a nod.

The academy needed more gardening equipment for alchemy class. That's why we were there. To be perfectly honest, I was reluctant to give the girls access to the greenhouse. It's not like they could walk in and out freely anytime they pleased. Only when they had class were they allowed to go in there. Still, the greenhouse was me and Cordelia's sanctuary, our safe haven, the only place that knew our secrets. I kept my thoughts unknown though, because it wasn't my decision to make.

We wandered around even after Cordelia had made purchases. The place was full of wonders and I just couldn't get myself rid of that easily. I especially liked that Madison wasn't there to drag me this way and that.

"Oh, look at this. Ain't it cute?" I held a tiny porcelain deer I'd found in a shop. Its black eyes twinkling, it reminded me of Zoe.

In all fairness, I probably could think of the animal spirits for all the girls in the coven. Queenie would be a bear, intimidating but mostly chill. A snake for Madison, no explanation needed here. Kyle looks like a dog because of the way he follows Zoe. But he'd be a tiny fluffy dog like a Pomeranian. Nan is a tricky one because she could be a huge animal like an elephant, or a small one like a meerkat. Tender and a little bit mysterious. I'd like to think my golden mane makes me a lioness, but Cordelia told me it looked like hair of a fluffy dog. I'd take it, whatever makes her happy. And of course, Cordelia would be an owl.

"It's very cute." She grinned at the deer in my hand.

"Oh, 'n' look at this guy." I grabbed another, abandoning the Zoe deer. Inside my hand lay a white porcelain owl. It was no bigger than my nose. The coldness of the material on my palm sent weak chill down my spine. Everything was white except for its eyes, which shone in bright blue. Brighter than the eye Cordelia used to have.

"It's so gorgeous. And definitely looks smarter than Madison." Cordelia wiggled her brows and gave me a playful wink. She was not a sassy person by nature, which made it way funnier when she actually did sass. We shared a good laugh.

"Would ya like it if I gave ya this for your birthday?" I asked her.

Her birthday was in less than two weeks, which I hadn't known until recently. It wasn't Cordelia who told me, either. I had gotten this information from Madison when we'd happened to be in the same room. I could still hear her pretentious voice. ' _Please do us a favor and keep the birthday fun in the bedroom,_ ' she'd said.

It remained a mystery why Cordelia never told me about her birthday. I guessed she didn't want to make it a big deal. Of course, the girls were going to hold a surprise party for her, and she knew it. But she never brought it up herself.

My question earned a surprised expression. Her eyes told me she was wondering how I'd come to know about it. She managed to conceal it not so successfully and said: "I would, but," she bit her bottom lip, her eyes shining teasingly. "…I'd love it more if it was a surprise."

I wiggled my brows just like she'd done a minute ago.

We walked around more, lazily browsing in one shop after another. There was no need to rush. It was a Sunday and Cordelia had a day off from being the almighty Supreme and headmistress.

Though we walked side by side, our hands rarely brushed against each other. Cordelia wasn't one to enjoy PDA or the attention she'd get from it. It might have to do with her low self-esteem, the only gift Fiona had given her. I didn't enjoy such an explicit way of affection either, so this situation never bothered me. Being affectionate with her in front of other people was such a weird thing to imagine. Even holding hands could sometimes get me awkward.

I quietly hummed Stevie's songs. When we walked by a store, my feet stopped there.

It seemed like everything inside the place was covered in pink. Pink walls, pink tables, pink clothes…But what got my attention was the mannequin behind the glass in the storefront window. More precisely, it was what the lifeless doll _had_ on it.

The black two-piece lingerie hugged the plastic body tightly, contrasting the bloodless white skin. My eyes examined the intricate design. It was made of lacy materials, but covering important bits of the body. Not the type of underwear Madison would like. It was aesthetically pleasant to look at.

It was only a second or two, I believe, before I snapped out of reverie. I looked at Cordelia, who stood a few feet away from me. Our eyes met and she instantly looked away, ducking her head. Her face flushed as if all the blood in her was concentrated in the upper body.

' _Keep the birthday fun in the bedroom,_ ' Madison had said.

 _Oh,_ I finally realized. _This is what she meant._

I don't know when sex became an acceptable birthday gift, but this was what Madison expected from me. And Cordelia did, too.

It'd been a while since we had talked about our relationship in her office. She'd told me to take as much time as I needed to be _ready_. It'd be unrealistic to think she'd forgotten her words. But there was no denying that her kisses had become more insistent lately. Expectations growing every time. Like she was urging me to lose my control. Like she wanted to push me over the edge. She never spoke about it, but I could feel her patience gradually fading.

Was there a limit to 'as much time as one needs'? Was that a social norm I didn't know of? I feared the moment to come.

Once again, I was struck by how little I knew about this world. Though I never considered myself slow, there were parts of the society forever hidden from me. People could tell what's _natural_ and what is not. But they could never tell me why things are the way they are. In such occasions, I couldn't help but curse my upbringing. Had I been from a regular town, from a regular family, I might not have had to be this way. I could've lived in the world without a problem. Like Madison did. Like Cordelia did.

I used to be proud of being different. My uniqueness used to be my strength. But I felt so lonely. I wanted someone to tell me, _'Hey you're not a freak_.'

It used to be Cordelia's job.


	7. Birthday

"M'kay, it's present time, kiddos. Gather around."

At the call from Queenie, the girls excitedly came running to the ancestors' room. The little ones, especially, showed a great deal of excitement for this special day. With their tiny, chubby fingers, they held gifts of all sizes, some wrapped up neatly, others not as much.

Since Cordelia's birthday was in the middle of the week, we had decided to throw the party a few days earlier on the weekend. Zoe and Kyle had collaborated with some of the girls and baked cake that could feed an army. Queenie and Nan had helped the younger girls with their gifts. Madison was being herself, picking on others, with a cigarette between her red lips. By the time we set everything ready, she was pretty much in her usual state; drunk and high. It's a tradition of Miss Robichaux's Academy to celebrate with alcohol when someone has a birthday, according to Madison.

My job was to keep Cordelia away from the main building so everyone else could prepare for the surprise. It wasn't a hard task to pull off since Cordelia could readily get carried away. Once she set foot in the greenhouse, there was a mountain of stuff that could keep her focused for days.

I'd say the surprise was a success. The stunned expression on her face when she saw the cake was priceless.

"Girls, you already gave me the best birthday gift anyone could ever hope for. You don't have to—"

"Ok, sit down, lady," Queenie interrupted the emotional Cordelia, pushing her down in a chair placed in the center of the room.

We all laughed at their interaction. Cordelia blushed slightly at the attention. She bit her lip, which was kept that way all the while the girls gave her presents.

Watching Cordelia interact with the girls was one of my favorites on earth. She wanted to be a mother figure to them. But I also knew it scared her to no end; she'd never learned how to be a proper mother thanks to Fiona. When the academy'd opened to the public, Cordelia would often spill her insecurity to me. _"How could I be a good parent to them when I don't know a thing about it?"_ she used to sob on my shoulder. But I knew she'd be the most brilliant parent anyone could ever have. The insecurity _was_ what made her great. It always had, not just as a parent, but as a Supreme, as a woman. She feared that someday she'd be like Fiona, and tried her hardest to ensure the day would never come. In a way, the bitch of a mother had taught Cordelia how to be a good person.

Watching the adoration and respect on the girls' faces, I couldn't be prouder of her.

"It's our turn now!" Zoe exclaimed, followed by the giggling Kyle. He handed Cordelia their gift, which turned out to be a flower pot and some packs of seeds. "It's ordinary, we know. But we thought you'd like the design of it," Zoe explained with her finger pointing at the porcelain pot.

Cordelia put her hand on her chest, unable to put her emotions into words.

"We bought you pretty practical gifts." Next was Queenie and Nan. Theirs was a set of frying pans, a little bow wrapped around the handles.

"I've been looking to buy new ones, how did y- oh," Cordelia didn't get to finish her question as her eyes landed on Nan. The two girls grinned at their teacher proudly, giggles spilling out. It must be quite handy to know what someone wants without asking them, I thought.

"Ok, enough with the _we_ thing. _I_ got a one-of-a-life-time thing for you." Madison stood up from the couch, a small package in her hand.

From our experience with Hollywood, I bet we all assumed it was something dirty, like lingerie or a sex toy. Something to embarrass Cordelia with in front of the girls. Yet, inside the golden wrapping paper was a plain thick book, not even the porn book everyone was crazy about.

Cordelia looked as baffled and shocked as the rest of us. "Why, Madison, this is such a thoughtful gift. It's my favorite book."

"Yeah, I know. You have a copy on your bookshelf." Madison shrugged. "But that one is special. It's got the author's autograph."

A gasp escaped Cordelia's mouth as her hand turned the cover page. "How did you-?"

"You all think I'm a bitch, but this bitch is famous and powerful. I only needed to pull a few strings."

The sarcastic tone of Madison earned a chuckle from Cordelia, followed by a quiet but genuine 'thank you'. I was mesmerized by the pinkness of her cheeks, and the way her eyes crinkled up.

"You are the last, swampy. What do you got your Miss. Cordelia?" Madison smirked. Her sincerity was flushed down the toilet just as quickly as it had appeared.

Caught in my musing, I fiddled with the ribbon around my present, stumbling my way to Cordelia. My heart pounded, threatening to burst inside.

Cordelia gently took the gift from my grasp. Her lips slightly parted when she finally saw what was inside, but no words came out. One second, another second, and more moments passed in the silence. The other girls walked next to her chair, curious as to what had left their Supreme so dumbstruck.

Queenie took a peek before looking at me. "Did you draw this? Damn, this is good."

I replied with a nod, ducking my head to hide my blushing cheeks behind my curls.

I had drawn Cordelia, just like Zoe had said I should. Encompassed by the flowery frame, the woman lay on her side, with her eyes closed, her mouth slightly parted. The silky strands spread across the pillows, making her appear angel-like. Since I could only study her features when she was asleep, the drawing had taken me quite a lot of time to finish. It was my first time to do a person as well, so my anxiety level was beyond my limit.

"Um." I glanced at Madison, who had opened her mouth. She rolled her eyes at the still speechless Cordelia and mumbled: "This is gayer than I thought."

Zoe playfully gave her a smack on her arm. "Oh, shut up, Maddi, this is so sweet."

Even among the jolly girls, Cordelia still remained silent. It seemed like her speaking ability had abandoned her. Yet, her eyes told me everything. And God, only if she could understand a fraction of the adoration I felt for her.

Standing up, Cordelia pulled me into a hug, so tight I could forget my body needed oxygen. I gave her a peck on the cheek after she'd murmured a thank you in my ear.

"I have one more present for you. Do you wanna go upstairs with me?" I told her, separating our bodies.

Her face flushed in the instant, which was turned into a deep crimson by the whistling and knowing smirk from Hollywood. The other girls mimicked her. They blushed, chuckled, and wiggled their eyebrows at one another. Those who didn't get it the first time, those less tainted ones, took the hint from the twittering girls.

I led Cordelia to the bedroom, taking her hand, ignoring Madison's taunting face. Except for the ancestors' room, the academy was eerily quiet, as though it knew the significance of this situation. Click, click, click. The sound of our shoes against the floor was deafening in my ears. I could feel my palm getting sweaty in Cordelia's hand.

Despite everyone –besides the fairly young ones– knowing what was about to happen, I was feeling oddly calm. Perhaps people can master trance-like composure under extreme circumstances, like helicopter blades appear to be utterly still when it flies with its full force.

"Ok, wait here. I'll be back in a sec," I told Cordelia before walking into the closet, leaving her by the bed. Once my body was hidden behind the wall, I took a deep breath. I grabbed my guitar and walked out of there.

Cordelia must have been quite nervous as well. Sitting on the mattress with her straightened back, her hands on her lap, she looked as comfortable as an elementary school student on the first day of her school.

"Oh, you…have a guitar," she stated before quietly laughing, at herself for being so worked up like this, I supposed.

"Yeah. Have been practicin' for a while now, so I could play lil somethin' for ya," I mumbled as I climbed on the bed. "Don't expect me ta be good like Stevie, though. It was harder than I thought."

"You don't say."

"No, seriously, that's why I didn't wanna play it in front o' the girls. They would make fun o' ma poor skills. I know they would."

Cordelia hummed in response. Her body loosened up, a softer posture as she sat cross-legged.

I inhaled deeply for the last time, and started to play Landslide. Truth to be told, my first idea was to play Leather and Lace, because it was her favorite. I must admit it was next to impossible for a beginner to master the song in less than a week. Trying not to let Cordelia know about this was another obstacle; I always needed to practice in the greenhouse, where Cordelia couldn't hear me from her office.

All of my focus was on the chords, to make this moment flawless, to mean every word of it with my whole heart. When I finally finished the song and looked up, I saw Cordelia crying. She was crying silently. That was the thing about her; every time someone did something for her, something to make her feel special, her eyes would well up. She didn't believe she deserved it, because that's what Fiona had taught her. She was unworthy of kindness, she'd come to learn.

"Misty," she managed to choke out. "I don't know what to say."

"I fucked up some o' the chords."

"No, it doesn't matter. It was perfect. You left me absolutely speechless." She wrapped her arms around me and whispered: "How did I get so lucky to have someone like you?"

"Makes the two o' us. But-" I kissed her wet cheeks. I could feel her eyelashes fluttering against my lips. "I'll be happier if ya stop cryin'."

"Oh, shut up."

I laughed as she scrunched her nose up. Her crying face was never and would never be my favorite. Yet there was indefinable beauty in those watery eyes. The kind of beauty that forests have after the rain. Not the most pleasant place to be, but possibly the most breathtakingly gorgeous view. I didn't think anyone could wear tears better than Cordelia.

"Happy birthday," I whispered as I traced her jawline with my fingertips.

She took my hand and kissed the back of it, with tenderness and some reserve. She might have felt like I'd crumble down if treated too harshly. Maybe it was accurate. Maybe it wasn't. I felt a lump in my throat, so I kissed her, thinking it could keep the lump from crawling out of my mouth.

She moaned against my lips. Her hands gripped my waist, pulling us closer 'til our bodies became one. My hands –they were so shaky I couldn't believe they were mine– snuck under her shirt. I let my fingers dance across her abdomen, with hesitation lingering in the corner of my heart.

"Do ya wanna have sex?" My words came out like water spouting out from a partially clogged faucet. Behaving so haphazardly I couldn't control. I could've been smoother and said, ' _Hey do you want to make love,'_ or _'Let me take off your clothes_. _'_ But no, I just had to be so blunt.

Her body stiffened up, and her eyes suddenly became unable to meet mine. But her fingers remained on my waist, absentmindedly playing with the hem of my shirt. "You don't have to, Mist." She shook her head ever so slightly. "Just because this is my birthday doesn't mean-"

"But would that make ya happy if we did?"

"Of course, but-"

"Then I'll do it."

I pressed my lips against hers before she ever had a chance to respond, before my trembling legs could carry me out of the room. The kiss became heavier and sloppier by the second. I could still feel the lump in my throat, growing bigger and bigger. The incarnation of my fearful uncertainty, threatening to infect my entire system.

It wasn't our first time to make out like this. Though the dull heat in my underbelly was something I had yet to get accustomed to, her tongue caressing mine wasn't a foreign sensation to me any longer. But when she tangled her fingers in my curls so possessively, I realized this time would be different.


	8. Guide Me Through

**SMUT (,which I somehow managed to make non-smutty.)**

The room was eerily quiet as we continued to kiss. All we could hear was the wet sound of our lips colliding with each other, and our clothes shuffling. My heart was thumping in my chest. I feared they could hear it from downstairs. My hands returned underneath her clothes, goosebumps on her otherwise smooth skin.

"Take my clothes off," she breathed out, which I blindly obeyed.

Aside from my own body, my experience with female nudity was quite limited. Madison once had given me a magazine filled with women in bikinis. Cordelia and I were still friends back then. " _What do you think of these chicks? Aren't they hot, especially this blondie? Doesn't she just remind you of someone?_ " Hollywood had asked me as she wiggled her brows suggestively. I remember feeling awkward, not being able to see those almost-naked women directly. I never understood why magazines like that were popular.

Cordelia had more curves than mine, and more freckles. I ran my fingers over her chest, where those freckles formed constellations on her skin. If you take a photo of the Milky Way and look at its negative image, it will look like that. She asked me to take her bra off, so I did. Suddenly her hands reached my back, unzipping my dress, leaving me in nothing but underwear.

"Holy shit," she breathed out as her wide eyes were trained on my chest. Hearing her curse had become a rare occurrence since the coven had started to welcome young witches in.

"What?" With my shaky breath, I looked down at my exposed body. "What's wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong, Misty," she assured me, her hand placed on my thigh. Her face reddened yet again when she realized where her hand was, but she didn't pull back. "I just- I don't think I've ever seen anyone more beautiful than you before."

I offered her a smile before bringing our lips back together, for I didn't know what to say. Shifting her attention to the base of my neck, Cordelia kept whimpering quietly. The hot breath intensified the ache in my belly all of a sudden. I cupped her cheeks and kissed her again, keeping her mouth from attacking me, silently telling her it was my turn first. With a gentle push, I laid her head on the pillows.

Her chest heaved, swollen lips slightly parted, delicate fingers grasping the bedsheet. Her body radiated heat. It was when a powerful wave of insecurity washed over me. My heart was pounding hard against the lump in my throat, which at this point I'd accepted wouldn't go away. I was simply scared that I'd throw up.

"I don't know what to do here. Could ya lead me?" I ended up asking her. My throat could barely produce sounds comprehensible to human ears. Nervousness made my accent thicker than usual. It felt like someone was squeezing my guts and not letting it go.

Her body seemed to loosen up in relief. Perhaps it helped her to know she wasn't the only one who was about to explode with apprehension. "There is no need to be nervous, ok? It's not about how you do this. It's about us being together like this." Her hand rose to tuck locks of my untamed hair behind my ear. "Whatever you do, it will make me happy. Just follow your instinct."

I replied with a nod, though I was no less overwhelmed with unease. I pressed my lips to her neck, the same way she'd done to me, but less confidently. She moaned out my name. Her whimpers were just as loud in my ears as the hammering heart inside my ribcage. I don't know how much time had passed, but I kept sucking and nibbling on her neck. Her skin started to be like a Dalmatian with red spots. I didn't want to do anything that would bruise her perfect skin, but Cordelia's hands didn't let go of my head. With a frustrated groan, Cordelia grabbed my hand and brought it to her breast. We both whimpered. I continued to massage, switching from one to the other. Her hard nipple rubbed against my palm; it was a strange but pleasant sensation. She threw her head back in the pillow, her body writhing, whimpers escaping the back of her throat. I watched her face contort in pleasure.

"Mist," she could barely manage to say my name. "God, Misty. Stop teasing me."

If she'd thought I was teasing, at least it wasn't an intentional act. The problem was simply –though the hardest to solve– that I didn't know how to go any further. Had I known something, even little something, that was related to sex in any sense, it would have been different. I would've known which parts of the body were sensitive, or when the sex would end. But my entire life, I'd been kept in a box of obliviousness, when everyone else freely and joyfully talked about the bliss of it. I'd learned breasts could be a spot of pleasure when Cordelia had wanted my hand there a minute ago. I didn't know a thing about orgasms, of course.

Eventually I ended up admitting: "I don't know what to do, Miss. Cordelia. I really don't." I sat back, letting out a sigh of disappointment. Disappointment to myself. "I'm sorry."

Cordelia immediately followed and sat up. "No, baby, it's ok." She held my hand and squeezed gently. "You never need to apologize. I know this is your first time."

"I just…wanted to make your birthday perfect."

"Nothing can be perfect if I make you feel like you need to apologize. Look at me." I bit my lip as I raised my gaze. "We can stop. Do you want to stop?"

"No, I don't wanna. Just– tell me what to do."

"Ok, ok. Relax, it'll be alright, yeah?"

"Yeah…"

"Listen, why don't you try things that you like, you know, when you do yourself."

I looked up in confusion, brows knotted skeptically. "Whatdaya mean?"

"You know…when you touch yourself," she waved her hand at her nether region. My expression didn't change. "…when you masturbate."

I thought the word sounded familiar. I'd heard it somewhere, possibly from Madison. But I'd never bothered asking her or anyone what the word meant.

"Mist, do you know what I'm talking about?" Her voice was cautious.

"No," I sighed out. I was starting to get frustrated with her talking gibberish, with myself not understanding any of it. I could practically hear Madison laugh at me in the distance.

"Ok, um, have you ever touched your genital, the area between your legs?"

"When I use the bathroom, yeah."

"In any other situations?"

"No…?"

Cordelia nodded her head as if to process complex information. Had I known the gravity of my words, I would've been mortified for both of us. Poor Cordelia had to give me the talk on the night of our first time. But I didn't know any better at the time.

"So, when someone wants to have a baby, they have to have sex. I mean, it's the conventional way anyway," she explained to me. "But people can have sex only for the pleasure of it, too. No babies…And the pleasure is strongest when you reach an orgasm. And to have an orgasm, most people stimulate their genitalia." She seemed to have trouble looking at me. Her hands awkwardly rubbed her thighs up and down. "Any questions?"

"The masturbation thing?"

"Oh, right. So, you don't have to have another person to have an orgasm. In fact, you can do it yourself." Cordelia chuckled out of awkwardness, shrugging her shoulders. "And I figured, since we are both women, we might like the same things."

I gave her a nod. Although I was still in the state of bewilderment, I felt like the fog that had been blinding me lost its density to some extent. I could see a little further now. "Well, I've never done that, so I don't know what I like."

"I gathered as much."

"But I can do what you like, right? Tell me and I'll do it for ya."

"Are you sure?"

I answered with a reassuring smile and said: "I wanna make ya happy. I wanna make ya feel my love."

Our lips pressed against each other again, gaining the intensity as if to chase the heat we once had felt. While Cordelia failed to hide her big smile, I pushed her onto the mattress. Although my nerves were still buzzing with insecurity, the weight on my chest was lighter. Now that the cat was out of the bag, I no longer had to pretend I knew what I was doing.

My fingers and mouth followed Cordelia's soft but needy orders. Using my mouth on her breasts, swirling my tongue around the nipples, kissing her belly, and nibbling on her hipbones. Cordelia taught me how she liked to be touched. With each request, I learned a new spot of pleasure or a technique. It was like learning more and more skills in a game, I thought. Her hands cupped my jaw, and she drew my mouth away from her neck to her lips. Her hips bucked under my body. Without a word, she grabbed my hand and guided it to the wet area between her legs, whimpering loudly when my fingers made contact. I watched her as she writhed, shivered, groaned, and rubbed her core against my digits.

She grabbed my wrist again, and suddenly I was inside her. I let out a gasp at the warmth, while she had to bite her lip in an attempt to suppress her moans. Her inside was similar to the feeling when you stick your hand in swamp mud, only she was warmer and smoother. I could feel her walls squeeze my fingers. While I sucked and bit her bottom lip, my fingers gained their speed as she'd requested.

I lost track of how long we'd been doing this. Her moans and whimpers and groans were the only sounds in the room. Only our heartbeats were what assured us that time still existed.

"Misty, ugh, Mist."

Her walls started to contract around my fingers, and before I knew it, her body was trembling as she climaxed. The sight left me in awe.

My fingers were sticky and slippery with her fluids, which I had no idea what to do with. "Are ya alright?" I asked her after she'd stopped shaking.

Struggling to regulate her breathing, Cordelia nodded giddily. She gestured me to hold her. We laid there with each other in our arms.

"I love you," she said to me after pulling her face out of the nest that was my hair.

"Love ya too."

Cordelia hummed into the kiss, stroking my waist, moving up to the valley between my breasts. Without giving me time to say anything, she sat on top of me. Her lips touched every inch of my body, and all I could do was to keep my whimpers at bay. My body trembled like it wasn't even mine to control, like I was losing all of my power to her touch and kisses. It scared me. Her fingers met my core, and I lost the last fraction of control.

"You are so wet," Cordelia whispered in my ear.

The sensation of her hot breath on my neck was overwhelming to say the least. I squirmed. My mind was left blank. Suddenly I felt pressure in a place even I'd never touched. She kissed me. I struggled to breathe. She moved her fingers faster. It felt like my inside was catching fire. My body twitched and shook for what felt like an eternity, until the sensation became too much to bear.

"Wait, I- god," I wept weakly. "Stop, that's enough." I covered my eyes with hands. With my throat void of moisture, I couldn't help letting out a couple of coughs. It hurt like hell. My body was heavy and I felt like I literally would sink into the mattress and drawn in the sheets.

"Baby, are you ok?" Cordelia crawled up, concern in her eyes. All I could do was to nod. "Did you come?" She asked me while peppering my chest and face with feather-light kisses.

"Huh?"

"Did you, have an orgasm?"

"I don't know," I shook my head honestly, struggling to keep my eyes open. "What does that feel like?"

There was a brief moment of silent, before she opened her mouth. "Some people say it's like waves of electricity running through their limbs, or like sinking into the ocean…or flying like a bird. Did you feel anything like that?"

"I don't know…maybe." I heard Cordelia shift her body, her chin slightly digging into my chest bones. When our eyes met, there was a shadow of something, amongst joy and love. Perhaps a shadow of insecurity. "I didn't disappoint ya, did I?" My words came out in a whisper.

"No, never," she replied with an apologetic smile. Her lips planted more kisses on my chest, moving quickly to my lips. "You never disappoint me."

After she said it, she grabbed the blankets and the night was over. In spite of my body completely spent, I had trouble going to sleep. My brain was fully awake, though not computing anything. The ceiling of the dim room looked like a scene from a film; no matter what I feel or think or do, the scene won't be affected. It's already been created and I was looking at the final piece, and there was nothing I could do. I was powerless, against my own mind, against my life.

Cordelia had said I'd never let her down. Was that true, or could that be a white lie? My heart couldn't bear even the slightest idea of doubting her. But I hadn't missed the millisecond of silence and hesitation before she'd said no. I desperately wished the moment, the vortex of unfamiliar emotions in her eyes, would fade away. But my heart didn't let it go. The scene was played before my eyes over and over again like a broken video player.

I looked at Cordelia, her cheek pressed to my bare shoulder. People say things change after the night of consummation. Nobody'd ever told me what exactly would change. " _You will know when it happens,_ " they would chatter. I suppose they were right. Her face somehow looked different, or maybe the way I saw her had changed.


	9. Angel is Made of Sunlight

Things had permanently changed between me and Cordelia. But it seemed like the world around us had also transformed into something different. The moment I walked into the dining room the next morning, I felt the girls' eyes on my skin. They laughed, blushed, and nudged one another, and yet nobody came talk to me. They studied me from behind, from a distance, thinking I couldn't see them. A source of entertainment that cannot be anything more. I felt like a circus bear no one knew how to handle.

Zoe came next to me and greeted, but I kept my eyes on the table. Her voice contained extra lightness, sort of a patronizing tone, so to speak. If my eyes hadn't been fixated to my plate, I would've seen an equally patronizing smile. Anything she talked about was just the extension of her intrusive curiosity, a mask that differentiated her and the other girls. Well, she was no different than the other girls on the inside.

Feeling like a circus monkey –though an upgrade from a bear– my gut told me to leave the site as soon as possible. I almost downed the solid eggs and stood up. I grabbed some candy, made a tea, and headed to Cordelia's office.

I'm not quite sure when this routine was established, but I felt obligated, responsible to remind her that she had to take a break once in a while. A day at the coven would start at around 9 or 10 in the morning, depending on which class one had to attend. But the morning would begin way earlier for the Supreme. _"The evil in the world doesn't sleep. I can't waste a second in my bed,"_ she would say. I loved that side of her. She was caring, dedicated, and brave like that. Since then, I would visit her office every morning with some refreshments, because she never remembered to go easy on herself.

As I reached her office, I saw the door was not entirely shut like usual. The room, which was generally the most tranquil, trouble-free place of the coven, had its serene air spoiled by Hollywood. Neither she nor Cordelia seemed to notice my presence as I stood in the doorway.

"Come on, Cordy. Spill it. We all know what you were doing with swamp bitch last night," Madison smirked as her cigarette created a swirly bridge between her and the ceiling. "I saw your creepy smile when I walked in. It must've been hella good, huh? Who would've thought the hillbilly knew how to fuck a girl."

"Madison, for the twentieth time, _no_. Get out of my hair. I'm not telling you anything."

"Whatever, I'm going to ask Nan, then." Madison exhaled cigarette smoke, a visible veil of her sassiness and smugness encompassing her petite figure. Her eyes met mine, before scrutinizing me up and down. "Oh, look who's here," she purred, smiling her vulgar smirk at Cordelia. "Your knight in shining armor." Her gaze returned to me. It felt like a snake slithering on my skin, looking for the perfect, softest spot of my body to sink her fangs in. At last, she tilted her head with a confused and disappointed expression. "Where are your hickies? Why aren't you wearing any?"

"Madison." Cordelia's tone was reprimanding as she stood by the desk. Her shoulders were tense, her chin up, lips firmly closed shut. Her signature look of a first warning. Nervous and rigid, even awkward, but still with a hint of authority in her voice.

Of course, it didn't even make Madison squirm. Her answer was a lopsided smile and a raised brow. "I guess Queenie and I owe Zoe 10 bucks." She threw another smirk at me before exiting the room. "Don't forget to lock the door."

The room was unnervingly quiet without her. The storm was gone, but just like any other storms, she had left its pieces of hell.

"I'm so sick of her," Cordelia let out an exacerbated sigh. Her hand went up to caress her forehead, smoothing out the knotted brows. "She always finds a way to pick on me. She really knows how to push my buttons."

"I know what ya mean. She does that ta me also." I put the tray of tea and candy down on the desk, stealing a glance at her.

Her whole body seemed to glow even after the anarchic encounter with Madison. I could almost see a halo, or was it the sunlight reflecting against the white wall? Her neat curls danced around her shoulders, which were half-hidden under a black dress. The dress had red and blue flowers printed across it, floating like the bi-colored Milky Way on the pitch dark night sky. I saw some bruises on her neck, dark purple spots on the saintly flawless skin. It looked like they were the children of the red and blue flowers on her dress. I blushed when I realized it was me who'd done that.

The corners of her mouth turned slightly upwards. Taking small but confident steps, she put her hand on my waist. Her other hand played with my wild strands. "Maybe you should whack her ass like you did before. Her brain might as well be located in the ass. Some whooping will make her remember the lessons she's forgotten." She winked at me in mischief.

I bit my lips to suppress my laughs. "Don't let the little ones hear ya say that."

Cordelia answered with chuckles. The hand in my curls moved up to cup my cheek, her thump stroking my bottom lip. My face colored as the images of us from last night appeared behind my eyelids. I cleared my throat, which caused her eyes to snap back at mine. There was only a small gap between our faces. I could've seen myself in her dilated eyes if I'd tried.

"Last night was…amazing," Cordelia said in a low voice.

"Yeah?" My heart picked up speed as she put her hands on my hipbones, pulling our bodies closer. We both wore knee-length dresses, and my knees touched hers. I could feel her skin. It sent tingling coolness up my spine.

She nodded. Her eyes glimmered in a color that I had never seen. They were daring, predatory even. "It's all I can think of actually…" She kept smiling until our lips connected.

Even if I had known how to respond, the answer would've been swallowed into it. Gripping my waist, she backed me against the wooden desk. The kiss was nothing like the ones we'd shared before, though I couldn't completely put a finger on what was so different. It was rough, rushed, desperate, and raw to the very core, as though it was the continuation of what we'd shared last night. It left me disoriented, so much that I could only focus on the movement of our lips. The rest of my body was losing strength as though it was absorbed into her mouth. I rested my hands on her shoulders for support. I was totally at the mercy of Cordelia.

And then I felt her hands, moving down to my thighs, drawing small circles across my bare skin with her thumbs.

"You really shouldn't be walking around with your legs on display like that," she breathed out. Our lips still close to each other, her breath was hot on my face. "I won't be able to get anything done."

Her mouth returned to mine yet again. I felt my ears burn. Every word that spilled out of her mouth felt like a hot needle, poking my skin and leaving red dots everywhere.

Behind me, the laptop made a popping sound, an overly happy sound for notification. It ripped its way through the soundless heat between us. Cordelia eyed at the device shortly, before breathing out a disappointed sigh.

"I should get back to work. I have paper work up to my ears."

To be honest, I felt a flood of relief washing away the tight knot in my heart. Either feeling bold or reckless, Cordelia seemed to pay little attention to the fact that we were in the office, outside our bedroom. I decided not to imagine what would've happened if nothing had interrupted us.

I turned my head and looked at the mountains of files. "Ok, I'll let ya go. Don't forget ta take a break though." Steadying myself on feet, I chinned at the tray.

"I won't, I promise." Cordelia held her hands up in the air playfully.

"Ya bet your ass."

"Don't let the little ones hear you say it," she called out.

I took a last glance at her in the door way. Her eyes were already back to her work, which gave me an opportunity to thoroughly admire the view. The large windows let in the sunlight through the lacy curtains. Cordelia stood almost in the center of the tiny, radiant office. It seemed, at least to my eyes, like she was absorbing all the light into her body. I could easily believe she was made of sunlight.

I didn't know much about art. My parents didn't care about it. But my mama kept a small picture of a painting she'd cut out of a magazine a long time ago. She kept it in a sorry excuse of a frame and hung it on a wall. She never figured out what it was called or who painted it. The woman in the painting stood by a window, holding a balance in her hand. Her head was covered in a white cloth, her sunlit face serene like she had the whole world in front of her. _"It's like lookin' at an angel, ain't it?"_ mama used to tell me.

She was ashamed of it, though. Ashamed of worshipping something other than the Lord. But the secular angel was too precious for her to let go. I knew, though it was never and would never be verbalized, that she would go to hell for it. The painting was an epitome of her sin, the only sin in her lonesome life.

Surrounded by the tall walls, standing among the books and plants, Cordelia looked like the angel in the painting.

ooOooOoo

"Hey, what are you doing this Saturday night?" Queenie asked me one day.

It was one afternoon in the middle of the summer. The familiar songs of cicadas resonated in my ears, reminding me of my shack in the swamp. With many whiny teenagers residing in the academy, the building temperature was inevitably always lower than I could ever stand. Growing up in a village where the modern technology couldn't reach, I was never one to enjoy the artificial coolness.

The greenhouse was my sanctuary. Not just because the temperature was moderate in there, but also because plants made better friends than most of the girls. I belonged there. The plants knew it too.

Queenie, on the other hand, appeared to be a bit out of place, examining her surroundings with wary eyes. No wonder. Ever since the coven had entered a new era, I'd never seen anyone –except me and Cordelia– step into the greenhouse. Occasionally Zoe would come to fetch us for dinner, but she never dared enter. Having a visitor here was just as rare as a day without Madison causing any kinds of trouble.

"It's a movie night with Miss. Cordelia. Why?"

The response was accompanied by a nonchalant shrug. "We are going to a club. Party hard, you know, since the break starts this week. It's been helluva term. No one's gonna complain if we spread our wings too. What do you say?"

"Um…I dunno. I have ta ask Miss. Cordelia."

"You coming if she say yes?"

I took a pause. "What– What exactly are ya planning ta– like, what do ya do in a club?"

"Tons of stuff. Mainly alcohol, and dancing until you can't feel your feet. Meeting new people is fun too. Honestly, it's whatever you want it to be. Madison and I are gonna try to get lucky. Not…together, gross."

"Whatdaya mean?"

"I mean sex. It's been more than 3 months since the last time I got laid. Can you believe that? It's outrageous." Her voice sounded just like when her pizza had mysteriously disappeared a few weeks ago. Who knew this human voodoo doll could be such a drama queen.

The more important question was; what was so outrageous and offensive about not having sex for months? I'd seen Madison treat it like it was the end of the world. Anyone who had the issue was treated like a flu patient. _"Do not come near me. I don't wanna catch your virginity,"_ she once had said to one of the girls. And now Queenie was acting in a similar way.

"What? What's that look for?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest after catching me all confused and dumbfounded.

"Nothin'," I quickly shook my head. "Just wonderin' why you wanna have sex with a stranger."

"It could be anyone. Of course, the physical appearance is important, but you don't have to care about their personality. So, yeah, anyone will do, as long as they are good at _it_ if you know what I mean."

I fiddled with leaves, unsure of what to say to that. Despite the fact that I lived with a pack of teenage girls, I never learned to _properly_ engage in a conversation like that. Sex was the topic I was worst at. Not that I hated it; it was simply a matter of indifference. To me, it was like listening to people talk about the weather of another country. Boring, useless, and completely a waste of time. It wasn't even educational. The excitement and enthusiasm people show at the mention of sex never failed to baffle me. It was such a curious, weird sight.

Queenie sounded just like Madison, but I had to suppress the urge to tell her that. _"We ain't nothing alike. That bitch is a nymphomaniac sociopath. I'm very much capable of love,"_ she would've said.

"Anyway, am I right to assume that you're coming only if your girlfriend is coming with you?"

I grimaced at the wording. It didn't sound very pleasant in my ears. There was a thin thread of sarcasm woven into it, though I doubted it was a conscious act. I shrugged nonetheless. "Yeah."

Queenie left the place, mumbling something about having to ask someone to babysit the girls. The greenhouse regained its tranquility. The door –it had been left open by Queenie– allowed the summer breeze to waltz in. It swirled at my feet like Stevie's lyrics.


	10. Black Opal

Whatever expectations or images of night clubs I'd had in mind, I was proven wrong. The moment the heavy metal door of the club opened, my ears were ruthlessly molested by the obnoxiously loud music. I feared the heady smell of sweat and perfume would murder my nose.

The entire floor looked like it had surpassed its capacity a long time ago; even making my way through the crowd posed a great challenge. You are lucky if someone's shoulder bumps into yours with every step. But if you are either being extremely short or unbelievably inexperienced (like me), you are unfortunate. You have to prepare for death as the vivacious ocean of limbs swallows you.

At least that was how I felt, and then Cordelia came back for me. The crowd divided into two before her as though it was the most natural thing. She walked on the path like Moses.

When I finally made it to our reserved table, I was welcomed by Madison's song of mockery.

"Seriously, it's not so easy to get lost in a club this empty. You really made me believe you have performed Descensum on the floor and got stuck in hell. Nice acting. You should consider that a talent," Hollywood shouted more cruel jokes across the table, but most of them were swept away by the music.

She didn't seem to care if I couldn't hear. With a glass of green alcoholic beverage in her hand, she looked pretty content. I think she was quite drunk already at that point.

"Well, drink up, bitches. It's all on me tonight," she managed to yell, which earned whistles and cheers and overjoyed roars from the girls and Kyle.

I left it to Cordelia to choose our drinks. My knowledge about alcohol was next to zilch. She got me something orange, while her drink was white.

I looked around the floor as I took a sip. Blue, purple, white, pink, yellow, green. Lays of neon color lights lit the walls and people. They moved across the room like colorful fish swimming in the air. The ground shook under my feet in sync with the beat of the music.

Either from the alcohol or the music, I felt my heart gradually gain its speed and intensity. The people jumped up and down, screaming incoherently –they might be singing, euphoric smiles on their faces. With the high level of density, people moved almost as one. Like one giant creature. I realized it was a whole different world I was looking at. It was hard to believe the town of New Orleans was sound asleep outside this place.

Cordelia placed her hand on my forearm, pulling me out of my thoughts. My heart skipped a beat when she moved closer to me, bringing her mouth next to my ear. Instead of kissing me like I thought she would, she said: "Do you want to dance?"

I pulled my face back and shook my head. I was still a bit scared to go back to the sea of people.

Nodding with a smile, Cordelia laced our fingers together. Her usually chocolate brown eyes were darker. The lights danced in them. I found myself captivated, not being able to look away. They looked like a pair of black opal. Neon colors and a galaxy, compressed and expanding in a blustery manner. I was staring into the most beautiful pieces in the world. And nobody else knew of their existence.

She again brought her mouth near my ear. I realized it was the easiest way to talk to someone in a place this loud. Your throat wouldn't survive the night if you kept shouting. It was a matter of survival and efficiency.

Although there was nothing sensual about this, I still couldn't help but get tense. Her other hand came up and rested on my bare knee. I heard chuckles escape her lips, tickling the skin of my ear.

"You look so gorgeous tonight, love. I adore your usual style but," she tightened the grip of her hand, which had moved up to my thigh. "…I think this dress is doing your body justice. Every time I set my eyes on you, I feel like I'm going crazy."

Her words drew blood to my cheeks. Tonight was my first experience in a club, so I had asked Queenie what I should wear. I had been anxious that afternoon. People who I'd seen in movies were dressed up real nicely in clubs. I didn't want to look like a potato in a rose garden. _"Put on the shortest dress you have and you be fine,"_ Queenie had given me the most ambiguous advice ever. I'd settled on a sleeveless black dress, which revealed a vast majority of my back. I'd decided to cover my upper body with a shawl, but it'd been discarded by Madison. _"Lose that shawl, swampy. You won't be needing it."_

Hollywood was right. The place was practically a sealed oven with countless sweating bodies in it. Even though I wasn't moving in the slightest, my body was kept warm in the room. What I hadn't realized, I thought, was that my exposed skin inevitably attracted some not-so-innocent attention, from strangers, from Cordelia. I hoped my scarlet face would go unnoticed in the dark.

Cordelia giggled. She moved again, and I instinctively drew my ear near her mouth.

But nothing was said this time. Seconds ticked by. The same silence, with the music roaring in the background. The singer sang something about a big fat butt. And then I felt her lips against my skin, just below my ear, lingering there for a good second. My heart jumped, so did my body. I covered the spot with my hand, and Cordelia chuckled at my flustered face. She winked, with mischievous seductiveness tugging at the corner of her lips.

My ears burned. I cleared my throat and sipped my drink. I nervously stole a glance at the girls on the other side of the table. Despite my worry that someone might have seen the kiss, there seemed to be no room for them to make fun of us, me mostly. Instead, they were engaging in a serious conversation. As serious as intoxicated and stoned teenagers could get, I mean.

"Ok, I would fuck Thor 'cause _duh_ , marry Tony Stark and get dirty rich, and kill the Hulk dude," Queenie passionately stated.

"Oh, please. Even a baby monkey could've answered that!" Hollywood shouted, downing a shot of tequila.

I knitted my brows together and looked at Cordelia, who had also heard Queenie. "Guys, what are you talking about?" I asked.

Zoe's face lit up as she answered. "We're playing fuck-marry-kill. Do you wanna join?"

"What's that?"

At that, all four of the girls started to talk simultaneously. They didn't care about the fact that others were speaking too. Guessing from some words that my ears understood, they were attempting to explain the game. With their mouths open, they looked like a bunch of baby birds in a nest, begging their mama bird for food. Finally, Madison put an end to it by shouting a shrieking "Everyone shut the fuck up!"

"It's real easy," she told me after the other girls had grudgingly quieted down. "We first name three people, and then you choose who you would fuck, marry, or kill. Like this. Zoe," she eyed at Zoe briefly before shifting her focus to the people on the dance floor. "The blonde bartender." Her finger vaguely pointed in the direction of the bar. "The super tall guy in blue near the pool table." Pointing again. "…and the black guy that tried to dry hump you earlier."

Zoe looked at Madison incredulously. In a way, there wasn't much difference in her regardless of whether or not she was drunk. She was still one of Madison's favorites to taunt. "Why are they all real people all of a sudden? We've been doing this with fictional characters."

Her protest earned booing from the others, pressing her for an answer.

"Just do it. Misty needs to know how this works," Madison told Zoe. She used my real name probably for the first time, though it couldn't be a good sign. I was no fool. She was either incredibly drunk to the point where her brain no longer computed the words coming out of her mouth, or simply making fun of me. It could be both.

"Fine." Zoe surrendered with her shoulders lamely slumped. "I would kill the black guy–"

"Why? Because he's black?" Queenie yelled out. She had a tendency to get a bit emotional when she was drunk.

"What? No! Because he tried to rub his crotch against my ass!" Zoe put her hand on the chest as if truly offended. "Anyway, the black guy's out. Then…I would fuck the tall guy–"

"I agree. He walks with confidence. A guy's confidence level correlates with the size of his dick," Madison interrupted her.

Zoe seemed to have decided not to comment on the vulgarity. "…and I would marry the bartender. He seems really nice and sweet."

"What about me? I thought we were going to get married," Kyle asked Zoe with sad puppy eyes.

"Ugh." Being fed up, Zoe hid her face behind her hands.

"See, isn't this fun?" Madison dismissed the exasperated Zoe and turned to me. "Now let's get you to play."

"I– no thanks." I leaned back in the sofa, wanting to escape Madison's predatory look.

The game didn't sound very entertaining or intriguing to me. Perhaps Zoe had failed to show me how much of fun it could be. Her round practically had ended up a disaster. Now she had to comfort Kyle, whose heart was broken because of this game. But why would people play this in the first place? What was so fun about imagining marrying or having sex with someone?

Up until then, I'd always assumed that it was only a small number of people who were actually interested in talking about sex. Assumed that other people were just pretending to like it, because that's what they see on TV and in movies. Once you open a magazine, it's full of who-slept-with-whom and which-couple-broke-up. Of course, if the media talk about it, people are going to want to do the same. It was just imitation to satisfy their poor self-confidence, I'd always thought. But looking at the girls, I realized people actually _enjoyed_ talking about sex. It wasn't just in the screen. It was real.

"I do not accept no for an answer," Madison slurred. "Fuck, marry, kill. The same group of dudes Zoe just did. Go!"

A sigh escaped my mouth. I looked at Cordelia for help, only to find a tiny grin on her face. She was enjoying this as much as the rest of the group.

"I don't even know what the black guy looks like. I wasn't there. And– and I don't find the other two that attractive." It was a lie. I didn't find them attractive _at all_.

There was a pause, a silence that a defendant has to bear the moment before the verdict.

"Madison, are you stupid? She has a girlfriend," Nan shrieked. "Do with girls!"

"Oooh," Madison let out an incomprehensible noise, like air blowing out of a balloon. "I deeply, very much, sincerely apologize. I'm such an idi– ok. Let me try again." She repositioned herself in the seat, almost knocking her drink off the table. Her drowsy eyes examined the whole room. "That Latina in a tight red dress, the blondie that's flirting with the old guy at the bar, and the butchy brunette. Go!"

"Wha– how–" My jaw dropped at how the conversation had landed here. Nan's clairvoyance was off because of the alcohol, or simply she didn't care about how I felt about this game. "I don't wanna do anything with any of them, ok? This is making me uncomfortable."

Madison rolled her eyes behind the rim of her shot glass. "Jesus Christ on a shitting pogo stick, lady. You are so picky. Cordy, your girlfriend is a picky eater!" She swallowed the clear alcohol like it was water. "I guess they aren't hot enough for you, huh? Tell me, what exactly is your type? Forget about your little mistress for now."

"Actually," Queenie spoke up. "I always wanted to know that. You never talk about your crushes or anything. Do you have any celebrities you like?"

The brown eyes of Madison suddenly gained seriousness. "Oh, that's fun! Let's do it! What celebrity do you think is the hottest?"

It was quite hard to wrap my head around the situation. We were playing the most boring game ever. Then the next thing I knew, they were starting a debate on what kind of women I like.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Cordelia covering her mouth with a hand. She was trying to suppress her laughs or hide her grin. But her eyes were trained on me, eager for my answer. The curiosity in her eyes burned a hole in my skin. I suddenly regretted leaving my shawl at the academy.

"I don't know." I gave them a big shrug while keeping my gaze down. "I don't know a lot of famous people."

"How about the girl that stars on a new sci-fi show?" Interestingly enough, Kyle decided to join. "The brunette, kind of looks like you," he talked to Zoe rather than to the entire group. "Do you know who I'm talking about?"

"Oh, yeah, I do. Anna something, right? She's gorgeous." Zoe answered with a nod.

"I'd hit that. She has big boobs like no one's business," Queenie agreed with the couple. "But in my perfect world, Tamara Dobson will always be the queen."

Madison let out a puff of air. "Honestly, it's impossible to choose when I can't choose myself."

This remark elicited disapproving grunts from the group. They quickly moved to argue over whether Madison should be counted as a true celebrity. "I'm goddamn famous!" "Dude, you can't call yourself a Hollywood actress just because you starred in a D-movie once." "It was a _B_ -movie! I got paid for that role!" "And you spent all of the money on coke, remember?"

It seemed like they had forgotten about me, about my type (whatever that means).

Good. I let my body relax.

A hand pulled my arm and Cordelia shouted in my ear: "Do you wanna get away from here before they come back to you?"

I nodded back with desperate eagerness.

Not bothering to take our drinks, she stood up and started to walk. With my hand firmly in hers, I followed her through the writhing crowd.

* * *

 **What do you guys think of the first part of this clubbing adventure? Part two coming right up :D**


	11. The List

She led me to a corner of the place, where the music didn't reach us fully. My ears had been familiarized with the loud sound, so it was a little weird to be in a quieter place. Being able to hear her voice so effortlessly felt like bliss. There was no need for shouting, or having to try hard to understand what people were saying.

"Do you hate me for not saving you sooner?" Cordelia asked me with a raised brow. With her back flat against the wall, she bit her lip in mischief.

"A bit," I replied with the same amount of playfulness. Truth and joking, fifty fifty.

A string of giggles danced out of her mouth. It was the most important, beautiful, and precious sound in the world. No matter how many times I heard it, it never failed to mesmerize me. Every time she laughed, I felt like there'd be a new star born in the night sky. They would make up a constellation someday, and name it after her for sure.

"Honestly though," Cordelia continued. Her arms came around my neck, fingers playing with my untamed curls. "I'm just glad to see you getting along with them. I know you grew up in a small community and didn't have any, um, human friends. I was worried you wouldn't be able to make any friends here, in the coven, I mean. So, it makes me happy to see you with them."

Her cheeks glowed in pink. Even in her drunken state, her grace was unmistakably present. It was like she carried a piece of heaven around wherever she'd go, whatever she'd do.

"They set my teeth on edge though."

She threw her head back and laughed. "I know they do, love. I know."

And she kissed me, fully on the lip. I was taken aback at the boldness of her act. She was generally quite reluctant to even hug in public. Kissing in a place full of people, it was certainly new.

 _It is the alcohol_ , I told myself.

Along with the moderately loud music, I heard someone whistle behind us. Or it might have been my imagination, the work of my awkward cowardice. I pulled back, but the newly-created gap between us seemed to annoy Cordelia. She instead buried her nose in my hair, her arms still insistently wrapped around my neck.

"Dance with me?" Her breath tickled my skin. I could feel my pulse, beating against her cheek.

"This ain't Stevie. I dunno if I can."

She only hummed. Separating our bodies with gentle force, the dark brown eyes of her smiled at me. "Don't move. I'll be back." She left after kissing my cheek.

I remained still by myself. In the isolated corner, I stood there as awkwardly as a Christmas tree in the middle of summer. I looked around, and found a guy across the room. His brows were knotted together in what seemed like dejection, his upper lip perched on the edge of the glass in his hand. Although there was a huge distance between us, I could sense his frustrations, his anger towards the people who didn't care a bit about him. He only glared at them dancing in joy. Even in this jubilant place, he was alone.

I wondered if people saw me now and thought the same thing about me as I did about him. I started to fidget, itching for Cordelia to come back.

Just as I was thinking about moving, the music changed. It sounded different from the insanely upbeat music that had been blaring. My body bounced without my noticing. The rhythm of the song felt familiar, even natural. It took me another minute to recognize the song. Some changes had been made to fit the clubbing scene, but the rhythm of the instruments was unmistakable. It was Dreams. My guess was proven to be right when Stevie's voice filled the place.

Cordelia came back in no time, with a big smile plastered on her face.

"This is Fleetwood Mac. How'd ya do that?"

She scrunched her nose up. "I might have used Concilium on the DJ." A few chuckles escaped her lips when I looked at her in disbelief. "Just kidding. I asked him oh-so-nicely." She wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her cheek on my shoulder. "He now knows the color of my bra, though."

"Miss. Cordelia!"

"It's a joke, babe. Relax." Her hands stoked my arms up and down as she calmed me down. Then she took my hands. "Now, dance with me before the song ends."

We stayed quiet while we swayed our bodies together to Stevie's voice. I closed my eyes, feeling beyond happy. We had danced like this many times before. In the greenhouse most of the time. But it was always me who would initiate it. Tonight, for the first time, _she_ had asked to dance with me. I wasn't blind to the fact that she was drunk and feeling bold, but I couldn't care less. This still counted.

It meant she treasured little moments like this as much as I did. Nothing, I was sure, would make me happier.

"Mist?" she spoke when the music started to fade away. "If they'd kept asking, who would you have said is the hottest?"

 _This topic again._ I inhaled but kept my sigh in.

"I don't know. I don't think I have a type."

Cordelia gave me a nod while she contemplated. But what could she possibly think about when her brain cells were being annihilated by alcohol? I should've seen it coming, whatever she'd come up with. Perhaps I wasn't thinking clearly, either.

Her face lit up, and I could see a light bulb above her head. "I have an idea."

She took my hand and we headed to the bar. I watched her grab some napkins and talk to a bartender.

Some random dude made an attempt to get my attention by rubbing his butt against my leg. His lopsided smile –was he trying to be sexy?– did nothing but creep me out. I kept myself as close to Cordelia as possible and appropriate.

Cordelia brought her attention back to me. Two shot glasses of whatever in her hands, one for each. She downed it like a pro, Fiona-style probably. I followed suit with much less elegance and bravado. The mysterious liquid set my tongue and throat on fire. A keen sound of her glass cut its way through the music as it hit the surface of the wooden counter. Her glass had nothing left in it, empty like Madison's bank account by the end of the night. Nibbling on a slice of lime, she didn't notice my half-full glass.

"I have an idea," she shouted, without taking the trouble to bring her mouth closer to my ear this time.

"I know. Ya said that already."

She found it funny for some reasons and laughed, her bottom lip between her teeth. "Let's play a game, yeah?" She handed me a napkin and a pen she'd borrowed from the bartender. "We each create a list of five people who you would sleep with if you didn't have to worry about any consequences or restrictions."

I couldn't help but narrow my eyes. "What?"

She leaned into me. "I said–"

"No, I know what ya just said. But…why?"

"Because it's fun! Plus, that way I can know what your type is."

Without waiting for my answer, she started to scribble. I watched the way her pen twirled and leaped on the fragile piece of napkin, and the way she occasionally lifted her gaze to think. I stared at my blank napkin. This was as baffling as the fuck-marry-kill game. Why do people enjoy this type of games? Or am I the weird one, for not seeing the point of this?

Not having any name to write down, all I could do was to wait for Cordelia to be done. It felt like forever, like time flew slower around me. Then Cordelia, having finished her list, leaned in to take a look at mine.

"Darling, you haven't written anything." She tilted her head.

I had to act as nonchalant as I could. "I couldn't think of anyone. Maybe I drank too much."

"Me too," she giggled. She placed her hand on my shoulder and said: "Excuse me, I have to use to the washroom."

"I'll be here," I shouted at her back as she already started to walk away.

Her figure was soon engulfed by the enormous body of the crowd. I was left alone with only myself to talk to.

My fingers reached for Cordelia's list with little enthusiasm. Her usually neat handwriting remained intact even under the influence of alcohol, I had to give her credit for that. As far as I could guess from the names, the list was a mix of females and males. I only recognized two out of the five, a male actor and a female singer. I could tell they were both conventionally attractive. I already knew the actor was her favorite; she'd talked to me about his eyes more than once. But the singer? Honestly, I didn't know how she'd made it on the list.

A figure appeared out of the corner of my eye, making my heart jump. Instead of Cordelia's dark brown eyes, I was met with a pair of pale grey ones, lit by the light above our heads. The woman smiled. I smiled back. I realized it was the _butchy_ woman that Madison'd mentioned in the game earlier.

"I really love your hair," the woman shouted with slight British accent. "Makes you look like a forest fairy."

"Really? Thanks. No one's ever described it that way." The compliment colored my cheeks. I self-consciously raised a hand to touch my mane.

"Are you kidding? It's _absolutely_ gorgeous. Is that your natural hair?"

I nodded.

"Listen, I work at a hair salon just down the street. I can give you a free haircut if you'd like."

"Oh wow, thanks." I looked at the card she'd just given me. "…Stephanie. I like that name. Mine is Misty."

"Misty? That's such a mystical name. I'm more convinced that you are a fairy."

I bit my lip to keep myself from blushing any further. Perhaps it was those grey eyes that made me nervous, or it could have been the fact that she and my hero shared the same name.

Suddenly, a hand came from right behind me, grabbing me by the arm. I was forced to turn around, and saw Cordelia there. Her lips pursed, there was layers of flames inside her eyes. I furrowed my brows but wasn't given a chance to say anything. Taking hold of my chin, she forcefully brought our lips together, kissing me hard.

It couldn't have been just the alcohol that mad her act like this. There was something else.

It ended just as quickly and unexpectedly as it'd begun. Even after our mouths had separated, she didn't create a slightest gap between our bodies. She threw a death glare of Madusa at Stefanie, who awkwardly walked away.

With my hand in hers, Cordelia also started to leave the place. I was too stunned while she led me through the crowd. It was only when we came back to our table did I finally realize what had just happened.

"Miss. Cordelia, ya still owe me an e'planation."

"For what?" She poured the rest of the tequila bottle into her glass. It threatened to overflow.

Most of the girls were gone, dancing somewhere or drinking their money away. There were only Zoe and Kyle left in the booth, snuggling together like a couple of lovebirds in their nest.

"For kissin' me in front o' Stevie!" I shouted back with a thicker accent. I was too frustrated to speak smoothly, or to sit next to her. "Ya scared her away!"

"Oh, is that her name now? No wonder you have a soft spot for her."

"What're ya talkin' 'bout?"

"What am _I_ talking about!? She was flirting with you!"

"Wha– no, she was just bein' nice 'n' friendly is all." My throat started to hurt from all the yelling.

"Yeah? What did you two talk about, then?"

I choked on words for a second. "Ma hair. She said she was a stylist 'n' could give me a free haircut."

Cordelia shook her head at me, as though amazed by my naïve ignorance. "Mist, she was trying to get in your pants. Nobody does anything for free without expecting something back from you."

"That's not true, no." I shook my head too, my fists on either side of my hips. I felt the familiar lump in my throat. There was heat creeping up inside my chest, and I knew it wasn't alcohol. "I never expect anythin' back when I help people. You– ya didn't ask for nothin' when ya sheltered me. Didn't want nothin' when ya saved me from ma hell."

"Because I liked you! I did all of them so you would look at me!"

I genuinely hoped she couldn't see my face. I felt a thousand of needles inside my chest. This way and that, they stung everywhere. If my heart were a balloon, it would have exploded from all the keen pressure.

I couldn't believe her words.

 _Doesn't she know what she is saying?_

"Are ya sayin' that ya wouldn't have done 'em if ya didn't like me?"

My voice was too low to be heard.

* * *

 **This is the end of part 1 of the story, y'all. Next chapter coming soon ;)**


	12. One More Day

Her words kept ringing in my ears. No matter how many times, or how much I tried to get rid of the voice, it kept coming back.

The worst part was, I couldn't blame alcohol for those words. Alcohol didn't do this. It might have made Cordelia more daring and reckless, but it was still her, still her words. Alcohol lowers a person's inhibition. It doesn't make them say or do anything they don't desire. It is the truth serum of the secular world. It's no magic. There is no trick.

What she'd said, it slipped out in the heat of the moment. Jealousy got the best of her. But it still came out of her mouth, her heart, her soul. _"I did all of them so you would look at me!"_ That was her honesty, stripped down to the core.

To tell the truth, I don't remember how I got home that night. I only remember walking alone in the street and cursing all the way because my feet hurt. I remember taking those heels off angrily at one point. There were several mysterious bruises and scratches on my knees and palms when I woke up. Maybe I'd fallen more than once. My eyes were swollen. My hair smelled like cigarettes and sweat. My black dress was negligently left on the floor among the accessories and shoes. It looked as though hell was slowly nearing the ground level.

Cordelia was missing from the picture. The other side of the bed was untouched. No sound from the bathroom, either. She might have come back to the room, but there was no trace of her sleeping here.

When I went downstairs, everyone –though there were only a couple of girls who didn't go home for the break and the old members of the coven– was tiptoeing so they wouldn't disturb their Supreme's sleep. It turned out Cordelia had decided to crash on the living room couch. Nobody knew why. Maybe she was too tired to walk upstairs, maybe there was another reason.

Her fingers latched onto the blanket as if for her dear life. Those stilettoes were thrown beside the couch in a jumbled manner. Her fake eyelashes were falling off and resting on her cheekbone. In her sleep, all of her shields and fortresses came down and she went back to her old self; fragile, frightened, and insecure. It was hard to believe this powerless child and the woman in the black dress, who'd laughed at my naiveté last night, were the same person. She looked so innocent, and my heart stung a bit –only a bit– for having walked away from her.

I was afraid to face her. There was nothing more excruciating and terrifying than waiting for her to wake up. It meant we would have to talk about what'd happened.

I initially thought this was going to be our first fight. But God had a cruel sense of humor as it turned out. She didn't remember anything from last night. No recollection at all, only a slight hangover. There was no need to bring this up, I decided. Time would heal the wound. I just had to pretend everything was fine and nothing had happened, until I convince myself so.

Time passed us by, and eventually, I came to believe that nothing _really_ happened. I deceived myself that the tears and the scar in my heart were mere creations of my imagination. It's amazing how the human brain works.

ooOooOoo

Even though the coven was still in the middle of the break, Cordelia never had sufficient off-time. Taking advantage of the fact that we had fewer girls to look after, she accepted countless offers of interviews and lectures. Sometimes TV crew would visit the coven. Sometime Cordelia would fly across the country herself. Sometimes she would lock herself in her office for hours and Skype people.

This time, she had to fly to New York to speak at an academic conference. The conference –I forgot the name. It was too long and complicated to remember– would last for a week, which consequently meant she would be absent for a week.

"Now, take care of the girls, please?" Cordelia kissed me as the cab driver loaded her suitcase. "You remember how to use the smartphone?"

I gave her a nod with my eyes half-closed in the morning sunshine. A quiet giggle escaped her throat as her fingers played with my just-woke-up hair. She kissed me again, on the cheek and on the lips. Then she was gone.

The first day went without a problem. There was tons of ways to distract myself during the day. It didn't give me time to think about the academy, the office to be more precise, that didn't have Cordelia in it. At night, she called me like she'd promised, and we talked until I fell asleep. On the second day, Madison got into a fight with a neighbor over a petty thing, but Nan mind-controlled her to apologize to the petrified old guy. Cordelia and I talked on the phone after nine again that night. She told me about the people she'd met in the city. In exchange, I snitched on Hollywood and told her about the previous incident. The third day and the fourth day had no noteworthy events.

Her absence had perks of its own; I could eat whatever I pleased without getting lectured about the importance of a balanced diet. But when you have a person scolding you for your behavior almost every day, it inescapably becomes part of your life. It felt almost weird, and even wrong, that no one was yelling as Queenie and I ate a whole bag of chips in one setting.

On the fifth day, I finally ran out of ways to kill time. There were no more bag of chips or snacks left in the kitchen pantries. Necessary potions had been brewed and the greenhouse floor had been swept. I even did what Cordelia had been begging me to do; tidying up the bedroom. My clothes were in their right places, possibly for the first time in six months or so. The room was more organized ever. And I'd never been more bored.

When the sun finally disappeared beyond the horizon, all I looked forward to was a phone call from Cordelia. Surrounded by the girls, I checked the time in the living room. 8:47, it was almost time.

"Yo, Misty, decide which one you wanna see. It's your turn," Queenie asked while her eyes were trained on the TV screen.

I opened my mouth, but Nan was quicker to answer. "She can't. It's almost nine. Miss. Cordelia is going to call."

This earned a chorus of 'awwwwe' from everyone in the room. Madison, in particular, twinkled her eyes extra much. Though, not the way a child on Christmas morning does. She rather looked like a jackass cat that is about to knock stuff off the shelves. The patronizing tone of her voice didn't surprise me.

"Well, don't make a sound though. The walls are thinner than you think."

I frowned at her gibberish taunting. I chose to ignore her and headed to the bedroom, where I kept the smartphone Cordelia had given me. Although she'd said I could carry it around the academy, I was a bit anxious to do so. It wasn't news to anyone that I tended to act rather haphazardly, and wasn't very aware of it myself. I could lose the phone somewhere the second I leave the bedroom with it.

With the rectangle device placed on the mattress in front of me, I sat cross-legged and waited for Cordelia's call. The clock read 9:02. The melody of Rhiannon finally filled the room, and the image of Cordelia appeared on the screen. It was the picture I'd taken when she taught me how to use the device. Cordelia was stunning in the picture, the only picture that would ever be in the library app. Instead of looking directly into the lens, her gaze was a bit higher (I'd realized later that she'd been staring at my face the whole time). Her angelic face was even holier with the lip-biting smile on. I wasted no time before hitting 'Answer'.

"2 minutes late," I breathed out.

Cordelia let out a chuckle over the phone, tickling my ear. "Sorry, love. I just got out of the shower. How was your day?"

"Nothin' special. How 'bout yours?"

"I had dinner with an old friend of mine that lives in Brooklyn. It was refreshing."

She yawned.

"Tired?" I smirked.

"Yeah, sorry. It looks like this conference is taking a toll on me. I feel like I've heard ten years worth of bullshit."

"I wish I was there. I'd give ya a massage, ya know?"

"I'd like that very much."

I smiled, knowing she had the same expression on the other side of the phone. Even if we had nothing special to talk about, it still soothed me to just hear her voice. I hoped she felt the same way.

"Ya know, I dreamt ya came back earlier last night. Ya better get your ass back here soon. I was real disappointed ya weren't next ta me this mornin'."

"One more day, love. One more day," she purred. "Speaking of which, I had a dream about you last night, too."

"Really?"

"Really… It was about us, actually. We were somewhere deep in the woods, standing under a tree…naked."

"Naked? What were we doin' together nak–" Realizing what was being implied, I stopped myself halfway. "…oh."

Cordelia giggled in my ear as though she could see how red my face was. The usual mischief was lacking from her voice, now low and thick. I heard her shift.

"I take back what I said," she whispered, each word pronounced with seductive graveness. "I wish you were here. I wish I didn't have to wait. I wish…I want you so much I'm going insane."

"One more day, Miss. Cordelia," I repeated her earlier phrase.

Then a moment of nothing followed. A blank part of the record of our conversation. It caused me to panic slightly. _Shit, that wasn't what she wanted to hear, was it?_ My heart started to freeze, my limbs staring to paralyze.

"Miss. Cordelia?"

Her answer was a whimper, and a ragged breath. "God, I can't wipe the image of us off my mind. You wouldn't believe how wet I was when I woke up."

She was right, I wouldn't. I couldn't even believe my own ears in the moment. The sexual aspect of our relationship had been somewhat slow in terms of development. I'd never turned her down, but it was always Cordelia who initiated the bedroom activities.

This was one of her advances, I could gather as much. Only this was daring, more than her usual subtle, soft approaches. The dirty words that she rarely used sped up my heart.

She let out a groan again. "It was the hottest dream I've ever had. You pushed me against the tree…and I had my legs wrapped around you. I never knew I liked it rough, but fuck…I wish you were here to touch me." The end of the sentence was almost cut off by a loud gasp and following whimpers.

I could feel my palms getting sweaty despite the chill I felt down my spine. My breath came out shaky, not from arousal, but from nervousness. It was frustrating not to be able to see her, but at the same time I was grateful that I couldn't. I wouldn't have known how to react. For most people, it might have been easy to assess the situation, and what Cordelia was up to. But it was like a puzzle to me. Like a puzzle that didn't allow for mistakes.

There was something in my chest, growing bigger by the second, making it hard to breathe. It was pressing down on my stomach as it threatened to block my airway. The sound that escaped my mouth was a strained grunt.

It must have sounded differently in Cordelia's ear. It must have encouraged her further somehow. Suddenly her breathing quickened, her whimpers louder and more frequent.

"Fuck, baby. You don't know what you do to me," she choked out. "Ugh, I'm so close…"

And that was it. She had crossed the border that I'd been secretly hoping she would stay out of.

"I– gotta go." The words I'd been holding in spilled out of my gut. Before I could process anything, my numb thumb hit 'End' on the screen. All of it happened in a blink, in one quick intake of breath.

The phone buzzed a few more times, but I didn't answer. I was afraid that somehow she could see me pretending to be asleep from the other side of it. Even her picture on the screen appeared to be accusing me of something. After the fourth call, it stopped ringing. No more Rhiannon. Perhaps she had given up, or my phone might've run out of the battery. I didn't bother to check.

One more day. There was one more day she had to stay in the city. One more nine o'clock phone call we had originally planned.

Quite honestly, I didn't know how to feel about that. I didn't even know what I had done that night. How could I know how Cordelia felt? I let the greenhouse occupy my mind, making far more potions than necessary. I didn't want to see anyone, especially Nan. I didn't think I could bear to be around her knowing she knew what had happened, possibly more than I understood. But no matter what I did, or where I went, the thought of Cordelia kept following me. Like a ghost, like my own shadow. For the first time in my life, I wished Stevie wouldn't sing Rhiannon.

Cordelia didn't call me on the last night of her stay, and I felt more relieved than I cared to admit.


	13. After the Rain

The morning when Cordelia's cab arrived at the academy couldn't have mirrored my feelings more perfectly. Covered with dark clouds, the sky was on the verge of rain. It was thundering somewhere a little far away, scaring other little kids instead of ours.

I wasn't scared of thunder. I never had been. But in my ears, the sound of Cordelia's suitcase being dragged on the concrete gateway sounded so much like thunder. It was, however, louder and more menacing. My stomach was tied into knots as I listened to the sound of her heels clicking against the cool stone ground. Closer and closer.

Thunder never scared me. I knew what it carried with it; rain and lightning. Cordelia, I couldn't predict what she had with her in the moment. It could be a soft breeze of her forgiving words, a rainstorm of tears, or a hurricane that would leave me in devastation. All of them were possible scenarios, and I couldn't know how much of damage she would bring about. The only thing I knew was, whatever was about to happen, I made it happen.

Yet Cordelia only gave me a small smile in the doorway. Fake. But who was I to say anything? Of course she wouldn't start anything that would make her appear unprofessional in front of the girls. If things were to happen, it would be behind a closed door.

While Kyle took her luggage upstairs, we exchanged some words, overly formal at that.

"How are the girls?"

"They are doin' great."

"Thanks for taking care of them. You were a great help."

"No problem."

I envied her ability to compose herself like that, when it took all of my bravery to just look her in the eye. I watched her ascend to upstairs for some important paperwork.

"What was that?" Madison brought me back to the reality with her smug smile, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Are you two having a fight or something?" Although it wasn't an accusatory tone, she didn't bother to conceal the selfish curiosity in her voice. Classic Hollywood. I didn't give her an answer, though it seemed like my expression gave it away. She breathed in quickly as if she was going to burst into laughter. She held it in, however, with her white hand clasped on her red lips. "Oh my god, you are! I'm so sorry. What time does your pity party start? I don't want to miss it. Should I bring wine or Champaign? How about some chick strippers?"

Generally speaking, Madison had an aura about her that made me just want to punch her, regardless of whether her mouth was moving or not. When things were even worse, I'd have to keep myself from whacking her head with a frying pan after punching her. This time it was the latter. She should've been grateful that I didn't have a frying pan nearby.

"Leave me alone." I threw her the best glare I could master, before walking away, out of the academy building to the greenhouse.

I didn't want to count this as my first fight with Cordelia like Madison had said. The one in the club shouldn't be called a fight, either; Cordelia didn't have any recollection of the incident. It takes both parties to have a fight. Her memory was clear this time, but it was barely an argument. It wasn't a fight. But something had gone wrong. Something was unnatural about the earlier interaction. Cordelia's forced smile had told me the same. We were standing on thin ice, both of us waiting for the other to move first. Like a balancing toy on the tip of a needle, the situation urged either of us to apply a little more pressure, in order to break the status quo.

The thing was; I had never had this kind of conflict in my whole life, ever. My mama was a very timid, quiet, but amicable human who did everything to avoid conflict. If someone is glaring, apologize as quickly as possible, even though you don't know what you're apologizing for. Outside my house, in the village, corporal punishment –they shouldn't be calling themselves Christians– was the most common way for adults to discipline children. There is no need for verbal communication. Just beat the kids and they won't make the same mistake in the future. In the wild, if you disagree with other animals, you either back off or fight for whatever you look to obtain. There are no such words as 'negotiation' or 'reconciliation' in the community where I grew up, or the world of pure raw power. That was all I had been taught. That was all I needed to survive. And now that I was seeking reconciliation, the way to lift the balancing toy off the needle without letting it fall, I found myself at a loss.

I didn't mean to ditch the dinner and not see Cordelia, despite what Madison, and possibly Cordelia too, might have thought. It just happened to be almost midnight when I realized, when I finally stopped tending to the plants. This was odd. In usual cases, my stomach would've let me know its presence by growling uncontrollably. It didn't happen tonight apparently, or I was way too tangled up in my thoughts. Either way, my body didn't crave anything at the moment, even though it seemed as if I had spent all my energy just sighing.

This was not so me, I was aware of that. Misty Day without appetite was almost as unnatural as a sunflower that doesn't face the sun. My stomach felt like I had swallowed a chunk of metal, and I couldn't shake that distressing feeling off. Another sigh escaped my lips yet again, as if that was the only thing that my body was capable of.

Finally deciding to call it a night, I dropped the watering can I'd been holding for a couple of hours.

Cordelia wasn't in the bed yet. On the way to upstairs, I'd seen lights coming from the office. She must be still working. I lay down under a light blanket, pressing my cheek down on the pillow. The night rain brought in the summer humid wind from the balcony window. The sound of the droplets hitting the walls and glass of the building worked as my lullaby, and I found myself drifting off.

In my sleep, I thought I felt lips planting a kiss on my cheek.

ooOooOoo

The morning sky was dark and grey like someone had sprinkled ashes all over. _Nasty_ would be the perfect word. It rained a bit and stopped, and rained a bit again. Having seen the world outside my small village, a lot of things about me had changed. But there were some things that would never change, and I hated rainy days just like my child self did.

Standing at the kitchen counter, I watched two birds perched on the adecamy's fence. They shook the raindrops off, and pressed their tiny bodies together in the rain.

It was almost time to encourage Cordelia to take a break, I hadn't forgotten about that. But I'd been having an internal debate whether I should go to her office. I should. I really should. Yet, it meant we would have to be alone in the office, behind a closed door, with no other girls around. There couldn't be more awkward situation in the world.

I walked through the hallway, my legs feeling as if there were heavy shackles around my ankles.

Cordelia sat in the chair, but instead of working on her computer, her eyes stared outside the window.

I'd always thought her frown resembled Fiona's. It was the only moment that reminded me of her mother, and the blood the two of them shared. She bit off her manicured nails. Even though there were only less than ten steps between us, I felt like we were far away from each other. Distant, more than when she was in New York. It is true what they say; psychological distance is way harder to endure than physical distance.

I shut the door behind me, the sound catching her attention.

"It's time for a break, Miss. Cordelia." My cheerful voice sounded so fake, and I hated it.

"Oh…thank you." Her wide eyes gaped at my face as I handed her a cup of tea. Perhaps she wasn't expecting me to visit her, given what had happened between us. After taking a sip, she let out content hums. "You have no idea how much I missed this. It tastes like home."

"Tastes like home?" I repeated her, not in mockery, but in amusement. "I like the sound o' that."

Cordelia chuckled in response, but nothing substantial followed. We were encompassed by the silence again. Only with the sound of rain surrounding us, even breathing could be too loud.

Silence had never been an enemy to me. I grew up with it, with solitude. It was my oldest friend, who knew me quite well, and vice versa. But it had a different face as it turned out, the one I'd never seen. It was dense, stifling, heavy, and sticky. Perhaps it was the face of silence Cordelia called her oldest friend, or enemy. They aren't mutually exclusive.

She started to talk about the trip, how boring it was, how crowded the city was, and more similarly dull stuff. My answers were mostly nods, with occasional tiny smiles that hid behind my hair. When she finished comparing the weather here and in New York after having run out of topics, she finally gave up.

"Misty, whatever this is, I want to talk." She pressed her lips together. " _We_ need to talk. I don't know what you want unless you tell me. Tell me what you're thinking about."

I nodded, but no word came out of my throat. I was relieved and hesitant at the same time that she brought this up. She walked closer to me. The way her hands took mine was gentle, interlaced with some timidity. It seemed like she was at a loss for words too.

"I'm sorry," I eventually blurted out, not being able to bear the weight of silence. "…for, hangin' up on ya, for ignorin' your calls." It took all my courage to look up. "Are ya mad at me?"

"No, of course not." She tucked my hair behind my ear. "But you made me really worried. I thought something bad happened. I had to call Zoe to make sure you were ok."

I mumbled an apology again.

"Why did you–" she paused and let out a dry chuckle. "It's the phone sex, isn't it? I made you uncomfortable."

"I didn't mean ta hurt ya. I'm sorry. Just– I didn't know what ya were doin' 'n' when I realized, I panicked."

My eyes were fixed to our connected hands, her delicate hands enfolding mine. My nerves were worn out. Never in my life had I imagined baring my soul would be this draining. I wished she would read my mind, like the first time we'd met, so she could see how I felt. See the thoughts inside my head that even I couldn't put into words.

"No, don't apologize. I'm the one who should be. I should've thought about you…I should've thought, before giving in to my impulse. I knew you'd never done anything like that before."

There was a tiny smile across her face as she squeezed my hands. Apologetic, yet there was some sort of strength attached to it. She wasn't a woman the society deemed as tough and unbreakable, despite having been raised by one. But she was strong in her own way. Like a willow tree bending its branches in a rainstorm, like a fragile bird patiently sitting in the rain.

I found myself gritting my teeth hard, to the point my jaw ached. My fingers dug into the edge of the desk beneath me.

"Ya make it seem so easy." For a split second, it felt impossible to breathe. "I don't know how ya do it. I mean, I know ya are more experienced than me. But ev'ry time I think I've caught up, ya take more steps 'n' leave me behind."

"Mist, I don't understand."

Despite myself, I allowed a couple of chuckles to escape my lips. "Neither do I."

Nobody could blame Cordelia. I wouldn't have understood a half of the things that came out of my mouth if I had been in her position. Words and emotions had minds of their own, teasing and confusing me as they pleased. I was playing hide and seek with the shadows of myself.

The only thing that was clear, was that there swirled a vortex inside me. It roared and howled as it grew bigger. I swallowed hard, and took a deep breath to keep it inside.

"Are we still talking about the phone call?" she whispered.

I answered with a faint headshake. "That's how I feel around ya most o' the time." My voice had such a frail tone, even though I had no idea how much of weight my words had.

It was a moment of torturous silence that encompassed us.

"I don't know if this is what you are looking for right now, but…" she trailed off as her hand pulled mine with a gentle force, leading me to the desk chair. I sat there confused. The golden waterfall of her hair streamed with soft luminosity close to my cheek as she leaned in to touch the laptop. She looked at me and then said: "Misty, do you know what asexuality is?"

I glanced at the laptop screen, which had the same exact word written across.

"It's how some plants reproduce?"

The corners of her lips turned upwards tenderly. "You remember my lessons." Her tone made me smile despite my oblivious state. She shook her head. "But no, this is not just a term for plants. It's also about human sexuality. Asexuality doesn't fall into any other categories like hetero- homo- bi- or any other sexualities. It's a category of its own. And an asexual person, by definition, doesn't experience sexual attraction to other people regardless of gender," she continued, her demeanor softening by the second. "I can tell you more detailed definitions, but it's a bit of mambo jumbo, isn't it?" I nodded and giggled along with her, whose eyes turned back to the screen soon afterwards. "I've been reading articles on it. People's experiences, people who are asexuals, I mean. I thought it'd be easier to understand than impersonal, detached definitions. I want you to read them too. This might be something you need."

I looked back at the screen. The surface of the mouse sent a tiny wave of rigid coldness up my arm.

The first sentence of the first post. I shifted my attention briefly to Cordelia, who smiled back but remained silent. I read another post that followed and another, and another.

The rain had turned into a light drizzle at one point, only knocking on the windows in gentle serenade. It sang, with the tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Cordelia put her hand on my trembling shoulder and said.

My verbal answer failed to fully pass my throat, and I ended up with a strangulated 'no'. The tears spilled down with no end like a freshly dug well that didn't know a word of control. It was drops of the vortex that wet my cheeks, the violent swirl of unexplainable emotions and frustrations accumulated over the years.

I only had one hand to wipe the tears away, because the other one was tightly in Cordelia's hand. I didn't– couldn't let go. Not now. Not ever. Not until she understood how much this meant to me. She saved my life again, just like she'd done many times.

Her hand kept me safe while I sobbed out almost incomprehensible 'thank you's repeatedly.


	14. Monstrosity

The first time when I felt a pang of alien feelings, was shortly after I'd joined the coven, when Fiona was the desperate reigning Supreme, when Cordelia's hair was shorter.

Madison was zealous, full of determination to pull my leg from the very beginning. _"A Stevie Nicks wannabe? As if you aren't gay enough already."_ Her words were as nasty as the cigarette smoke coming out of the same mouth. But I paid no attention; it wasn't just Fiona that Cordelia had warned me about.

After that, and even after that, her taunting never ceased. I gradually had gotten used to the question mark above my head every time she made mocking remarks, which were sexual most of the time.

Once the coven had seen the face of the new Supreme, much deserving peace came back. We had more opportunities to sit and watch TV and do things that regular people do. The girls started to talk about something other than Papa Legba or witch hunters.

It was only then that I finally realized the way Madison acted was how _everyone_ acted.

Regardless of age, the girls talked about sex and romance like they were the most important elements of life. Like they were the crystal skull awaiting them at the end of their journeys. I pretended to understand at first, just so I could blend in. But no matter how hard I tried, I could never comprehend why it was such a big deal, why so many politicians ruined their careers because of it, why people were so enthusiastic to hear which celebrity cheated on which. To me, watching the wind twirl around a flower was more intriguing than that.

As time passed, I'd come to realize there was something fundamentally different about me. It was always me and the other. What they liked, I didn't care about. What I loved, they dismissed it with a casual shrug and a jeering smirk. The turmoil of bafflement had become my default around the girls, and I'd eventually given up trying to fit in.

It wasn't a lonely life though, just as my previous life in the swamp was. I had Cordelia, the one person I would go to hell for. It was easy, almost natural, for me to let my world revolve around her.

So when she wanted something more than a friendship, it broke my heart. She was the same as the rest of the coven. Oh, she was. It was darn difficult to admit to myself, that she could cause such an ache in my heart.

People would have told me I was too naïve, that I was being unreasonable. They had no idea about my pain, this feeling even I was blind to. They couldn't see, or even fathom, my world that crumbled down bit by bit, as if it was destined to become a ruin.

 _Have you ever pretended to like sex so your partner wouldn't think you don't like them?_ One of the posts asked. Every word of it stung, and burned my heart.

 _Yes. Yes, I have_. _Always. Since the beginning._

Every time she touched me, I was scared of her warm smile. Scared to death that I would screw up somehow and she'd leave me. The sparkles of longing were blades that cut through my skin. _Don't freak out. Don't say a word. She loves you._ I'd learned to tie myself down to the bed with the chain of words.

They say once you immerse yourself fully, the pleasure will consume you and those fears won't matter. Stop being so naïve and just snap out of it. That's how everyone else acted. But it never happened to me. It always made me hyper-aware of everything. Her naked skin, her hands, my own breathing, the coolness of the bedsheets, the one stain in the ceiling…everything.

They say the intimate act will bring two people closer to each other. This whole love thing is less meaningful without sharing the physical experience for some reasons. They smile with their droopy eyes and tell everyone that their relationship is _finally_ in full blossom after their first sex. To them, to the world, physical intimacy was the sole way of proving love to someone else. I didn't understand them, because each kiss and touch made me feel her more distant. When she was on top of me naked, it wasn't the Cordelia I knew. She was someone else, a stranger that had known me for a long time.

I convinced myself every time that this –whatever this emotion was– was because of my lack of experience. I told myself that if I kept doing this, I'd like it. But I never felt the so-called lust that seemed to control Cordelia and leave her completely vulnerable. I'd always wondered how someone like Cordelia, someone with such high self-control, could easily give into it.

" _Follow your instinct,"_ Cordelia had said to me on the night of our first time. I remember feeling even more confused and frustrated. My instinct was telling me to back away, put on clothes, and cry. So, I shot in the dark, hoping some of the bullets would hit the target. But what would become of me, and Cordelia, if a bullet happened to hit something else that I so cherished?

I couldn't remember the fearless girl that used to live in me. What happened to her? She didn't care for people's understanding. She wasn't afraid of making mistakes, because at the end of the day, she had Stevie.

She was gone.

I condemned myself for not wanting the same thing Cordelia did. It wasn't a matter of intentional choice; I _couldn't_ get myself to want it, no matter how much I tried. Eventually, I'd become numb to the lump in my throat that threatened to block my airway. It was best for both of us, I'd decided.

These people's stories, they were about me. They were my story.

ooOooOoo

I lay on the bed, with my head rested on Cordelia's chest. With every intake of breath, with every heave of her chest, I too breathed in and out. Her hand restlessly caressed my back.

It had taken some convincing to have her lie with me. This was rather an intimate act, and she was afraid it'd make me uneasy. There were no solid boundaries set between us yet. What I didn't like, and what I was ok with.

It wasn't necessarily all physical touch that made me apprehensive, and gave me the feeling of my stomach being squeezed; what I disliked was the moments of carnal desire, the vortex of thirst raging in the brown eyes. I dreaded the moments of Cordelia's gentle hands hustling to rip off my clothes. I feared her soft lips bruising and marking my body, as if she owned me. In these moments, the angelic, innocent, selfless Cordelia turned into someone else who was only invested in fulfilling her desire.

As long as I knew things would stay non-sexual, then hugs and kisses weren't daunting.

"How'd ya know?" I whispered into the tranquil air of the room.

The sky had its serenity back after the storm, and the twilight made the white bedsheet beneath us shine. My fingers tenderly stroked the surface of the fabric. It was soft, but not as much as the one we were using before Cordelia's trip. I vaguely remembered the way the silky fabric had felt in my fists. I remembered grasping it so tight, with Cordelia plating kisses across my lower back.

"I didn't exactly know," she answered. "But I noticed that every time I ask if you want it, you say you want to make me happy. It was never about you. It was always about me, from the very beginning, and I…" A sigh slipped out of her lips. Her hand stopped caressing my body, but still remained there. "I knew the term 'asexuality' before. It's a huge group of girls we look after. Issues regarding sexuality were bound to happen. It just… never occurred to me that it might happen to us someday. But I suppose that was my fault. I shouldn't have assumed anything."

"It ain't your fault. Ya didn't know."

She bit her lip. "I just wish you would communicate with me more. I feel so selfish."

"I didn't wanna hurt you."

"Why did you think it'd hurt me?"

I lifted my body, careful not to push down on her. "Ya like having sex...don't ya?" My face flushed ever so slightly as I asked.

She looked into my eyes for a couple of seconds. "I do," she echoed. "Because it's with you. It wouldn't be the same with anyone else. Not that there's anyone. I love you and only you. And it's natural, for me anyway, to feel this way, that I want to have all of you."

"Why do ya think ya don't?"

Her answer was a smile, sympathetic and brokenhearted. Like she was giving up something. When she found out she couldn't get pregnant, when Fiona died in her arms, when something uncontrollable happened and left her with a broken heart, Cordelia would smile like that. As if she was convincing herself not to feel the pain.

It was the coping mechanism of her. Developed, evolved, remolded with each heartbreak, to build higher and sturdier walls between her and the world.

The thought of me included in that world was unbearable. I was supposed to be standing on the other side of the walls, with her, next to her.

I sat up before taking her hand. "Don't think ya don't have all o' me, because ya do." I said to her. "Ya have ma soul. Do ya believe in soulmates, Miss. Cordelia?" I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. She seemed to be uncertain and remained quiet, though her brown eyes never left mine. "I do. I believe ev'ryone has a soulmate, who they 're destined to meet in their life. And ya are mine, Miss. Cordelia. Our souls are connected, always have been, ever since the beginnin' o' the universe. This feelin', it's more than I can put into words. I love ya, Miss. Cordelia. Ya are ma soulmate, ya are ma tribe, ya are ma home n' all other things that keep me here on this earth."

My voice, I didn't recognize it. How long had it been since the last time I heard my own crying voice? I used to cry a lot as a child, and even after I'd left my village. I was always crying, and I always fell silent. There is some kind of self-destructiveness to it, having to force yourself to speak when broken sobs are the only thing willing to come out of your throat.

It was only Cordelia whom I desperately wanted to speak to even so.

"So, please," I choked out as her face blurred in my vision. "Don't ever think ya don't have all o' me."

I couldn't see her reaction, hidden behind the tears.

ooOooOoo

When I woke up the next morning, Cordelia was already out of the bed. Her pajamas were neatly folded in the laundry box, along with the ones I had tossed mornings prior. I raised my hands to massage my temples, to relieve the dull pain in my head.

Running lukewarm water, I washed the solidified tears off my face. It was the physical remnant from last night. The reminder of Cordelia's dejected smile. I rubbed the salt off, to the point the skin around my eyes reddened quite noticeably.

The academy lacked its perkiness, the dining room without hungry teenagers, the TV uncharacteristically unoccupied. Then it came to my mind that Queenie was taking the girls to downtown, so they could be familiarized with voodoo as well. To know your own history, you must know the history of your enemies, as they say.

It was a bizarre feeling, to be left alone in this empty building, with the white walls threatening to absorb your whole being. It reminded me of the first time I set foot in this place. I remember feeling a bit scared of the lifeless, spotless walls, and the eyes of the past Supremes' pricking every inch of my skin.

Perhaps _scared_ wasn't the exact word, but I certainly felt like a wild monkey trapped in a queen's castle. As luxurious as it is, the castle doesn't have trees to climb, or the sky to look up to. Although I no longer had the constant feeling, occasions like this made me realize I was the nature's child to the core.

The old grandfather clock tolled in the hallway.

I mindlessly stared at the bottom of my mug in the kitchen, my mind still partially clouded. My head reeled from the dream I had woken up from. A nightmare, except it didn't have monsters…or maybe it did and _I_ was the monster. Cordelia was crying, for whatever the reason, hiding her face behind her hands, refusing to say a word. Her shoulders trembled, and when I tried to reach her, it only made the crying worse. My own groans had woken me up from the hell.

Shortly after her mother had died, Cordelia told me about the story of her childhood. A memory that she hadn't recalled for a very long time.

She wasn't a failure like Fiona wanted to believe. Her life was full of potential when she was little, when her mother was still oblivious to her mortality. Her Sight was just as powerful as when it was regained after about thirty years. One day, she had a vision, of her uncle trapping a girl –not much older than Cordelia herself– inside his closet. Dark, smelly, humid, and vile. In a fraction of the horrifying scene, the little Cordelia witnessed the sheer horror and despair in the girl's dark brown eyes.

Not knowing what to do, Cordelia did the only thing she could think of; going to her mother for help. Fiona merely snickered at the unwarranted imagination, despite her daughter's protest and plea. But a week after that, the police arrested the uncle for kidnapping and rape, as well as other minor crimes. Fiona's attitude toward her daughter had changed since then, drastically so. The innocent Cordelia couldn't tell why. Fiona never told her why. _"You are a pathetic failure. You're worthless."_ It became a usual scene in the Goode household.

The incident left Cordelia with a deep scar in her heart. Every time Fiona yelled, the face of the frightened girl came back behind her eyelids. She loathed her Sight, the root of all misery in her life, and wished it away. By the time she was fourteen, she had learned to put a lid on her potential abilities, only to be left with the never-ending, abusive words from Fiona.

Her waking nightmare continued even then. The face in the vision had lost its features, and started to have Fiona's. She feared the dark, because it often triggered the trauma.

It wasn't the dark itself, though. People aren't really afraid of the dark, but what they think it might have within it. Their imagination tries to see what their eyes cannot see, and their minds create the worst case scenario. Cordelia's fear was because of its strong association with her mother. Fiona was the monster in her closet. Fiona, the woman who was afraid of and running away from her own shadow.

I wondered if I would be the monster in her closet someday. I wondered –I knew it was useless– if someday the face in her vision would have blue eyes like mine.

I let out a loud sigh, which hit the surface of the tea and created fragile ripples. With my mind racing, the presence of another person went unnoticed.

"You are loud today. It's rare." Nan placed herself in the chair next to me, while I jumped at the abrupt appearance.

"Shit, you scared me."

With no interest in my disheveled state, she only responded with a hum. "Last night was intense."

It took me by a bit of surprise at first, leaving me confused as to what she was referring to. And then it hit me.

With an exasperated eye roll, I breathed out through my nose. "If you could help it..."

"I can't."

"Right..."

"Do you really think Miss. Cordelia is ok with it?" Nan carried on, shrugging detachedly when our eyes met. "You know exactly what I mean."

"She said she was fine. I don't have any reason to doubt her words."

"But you know tolerance and acceptance aren't the same thing."

I couldn't help but bare my teeth at her suggestion, although getting pissed at her for her forthrightness was such a barren thing to do. Despite the powerful ability, Nan seemed incapable of paying her mind to people's emotions. Living in the coven almost equaled to having to tolerate her intrusiveness.

Yet, Nan wasn't just speaking her mind, but she was speaking my mind, too. I gritted my teeth. It was true that there was a little piece of doubt stuck in my heart. It was like there were two versions of me; one part wanting to believe Cordelia with blind faith, and the other begging my eyes to see the reality. The reality where I couldn't give Cordelia what she desired. Even when I had gone to her office earlier, there were moments of her apologetic smiles.

I knew, somewhere deep down, that it was up to her to solve this. I wished things were different, but this was who I was and I couldn't change that. What she needed was not my guilt, but more time. To believe just because you open up to someone, the person immediately accepts it is naiveté. You have to give them some time to adjust and come to term with it. And if acceptance isn't the decision they made, it's not your problem but theirs. I knew it, but the irrational, emotional part of my brain still refused to weave myself out of the guilt.

Zoe walked in, her eyes roving.

 _Why does this girl always look like on the verge of a mental breakdown?_ I mused as she greeted us with an almost-soundless hi.

"Kyle is waiting for you in the closet," Nan told her without much enthusiasm. Zoe creased her forehead in puzzlement, which caused Nan to roll her eyes. "It's not a metaphor. He's literally in your closet, waiting for you, in his vampire costume."

I couldn't help but narrow my eyes at this, while Zoe's face turned scarlet in a flash.

"Oh, ah- ok. Thanks..."

I watched her back as she trotted out of the room at the speed of light. Turning around, I found Nan taking a weeny bite out of a cookie, just as though nothing noteworthy had happened.

"Doesn't it just weird you out, knowing what other people's sex lives are like?" I asked her.

"I've gotten used to it," Nan replied. Her attention was still largely on the cookie in her hands. "It didn't start this morning or anything. It doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it though." She glanced at me briefly. "It's easy being around you. Your mind doesn't scream anything to me. Now, I can control my clairvoyance most of the time. I don't have to wear headphones all the time anymore. But strong thoughts still sneak through. Strong thoughts like sexual desire. I can't keep them out yet, and you know how crowded this place is. Sometimes it's like I'm attending an orgy."

The last word made me grimace slightly. It was an unfamiliar word, though I could guess it was a non-innocent one.

"Do you know how many times a day people think about sex on average? There's statistics of that."

"No…I didn't even know about the statistics." I played with the rim of my mug as I answered. "Why would they need to know that anyway?"

"It's for science." The corners of her eyes winkled as she responded in thrill. "They say it's 10 times for women. The number is higher for men, but I know neither of them is correct. It's more than that. Way, way more than that. Maybe because there are only young hormonal girls in the coven."

I couldn't come up with any reply to that, though it reminded me of one thing. The time when Cordelia and I were starting our sexual relationship. She would want to touch me and be touched by me at every opportunity she could find. It'd baffled me. It'd intrigued me. And then it'd all become bothersome. Though it was never verbalized, I thought she had a high sex drive. The joke was on me; she was 'normal', and I wasn't.


	15. Pride Parade

When I was a child, I never even thought of a world where people hate others because of their ways of love. Never considered what you love could get you killed in this society.

This is not to say I wasn't raised in a conservative family; but what was different was my parents' notion of love. To them, any kind of love, whether heterosexual or homosexual, was a sinful thing. Love, even considering it, was frowned upon in my house. It was deemed as iron shackles to hinder my life, because romance meant sex and sex meant abomination. They didn't want that for me. Their decision was to keep me in the pretty room of ignorance for a long time.

The first time I ever heard the word homosexual or gay was when a son of the then-priest came out as one. Though I was young, I remember people spitting the word like poison on their tongues. It was the scandal of the century; the rumor that his lover might be from the same community fueled the church's wrath even further.

Even then, none of the adults took the trouble to explain to me why it was wrong, sinful, and something to be frowned upon. _"Ya're too young ta understand,"_ they would simply tell me. Doctors make you take pills without telling you what they really are, because they assume you are too young and ignorant to comprehend. The attitude of the adults made me feel the same way. I resented that feeling of being looked down on.

The gay son of the priest might've ended up moving to another city. The people might have burned him at the stake like they'd done me. A sufficient explanation was never given. And by the time I was old enough, everyone had forgotten his existence. Nobody talked about him anymore. No one even thought of him anymore. He didn't exist in their minds and hearts. Not gone. Not dead. To them, he was never there.

Since then, such topics were never brought up again. They were still keen on talking about other people's business, though. Their hunger and thirst for gossip had no limit. The same mouths that condemned the priest's son, an innocent young man who had happened to fall in love with another man, formed egotistical smirks, secretly, from behind the veil of St. Jesus Christ, as they spat on the outcasts of the village. The old maiden who never got married or kissed a man. The young man who had divorced his wife of five years. The girl who had given her body to a man she wasn't married to. These people were the stray sheep in the community. Although the village wouldn't burn them alive for their doing, hell was certainly better than what they had to endure.

Those in the village were the ones who believed they were the gifts from heaven. Large proportions of their repetitive, dull lives were dedicated to pointing their grainy fingers at someone's back. Their foul mouths that were supposed to be used for prayers were spitting venom. And that was the most bizarre thing to me. You do something, and they narrow their eyes. Then you think you'd better stay quiet and do nothing, and that also gets disapproving headshakes from them. The rule book is in their hands, and they rewrite it each time to suit their ideals. They called themselves children of God.

I looked up and admired the summer sky. The sun planted not-so-soft kisses on my face, and I felt a drop of sweat rolling down my back. The soft breeze snuck under my shirt and gave me a comfortable chill in the shape of the damp trail of sweat.

The day couldn't have been better for the pride parade, one of the countless merry events New Orleans could offer. The center of the city was especially heavy with decorations. Rainbow balloons, rainbow flags, rainbow banners... Rainbow everything. When you turn your head to the right, you see a girl with rainbow hair. If you turn to your left, then you find a guy in nothing but rainbow underwear. Right across the street, you see a drag queen that's more than six feet tall. Even dogs were wearing rainbow bandanas to share their pride with their human.

"Couldn't you wear actual clothes instead of that rag around your junk? I can practically see your crack." In front of me, Queenie started another redundant quarrel with Madison.

"Why don't you stick your nose between my cheeks, then? I can wear whatever the hell I want." Hollywood countered, flipping her long ponytail over her exposed shoulder.

In fact, Queenie's complaint wasn't much of an exaggeration; the area of her skin that was covered by some kind of clothes was significantly smaller than the area that wasn't. About 98% of her body was revealed, with only the important bits covered. Of course, she tended to think the sluttier, the better, but today didn't compare. She might have been more decent with a bath towel wrapped around her body.

Cordelia, so accustomed to and yet so fed up with the feud between the two of them, sighed stridently. "Madison, watch your mouth, please. We're in public. And would you put out the cigarette when we are in the crowd? It's not safe."

Hollywood merely snickered at her. The sickeningly white teeth glimmered between the purplish black lips that resembled Calla Lily. Though, there wasn't a fraction of the elegance the flower symbolizes.

The way Cordelia's forehead was creased told me how much she regretted having brought Madison with us.

It would've been easier if she was the only person Cordelia had to pay attention to; but we had two couples of girls as well. Couples, as in dating. _"We want to go there and celebrate our love. We want to see what it's like to not be afraid of other people's judgmental looks,"_ they'd told Cordelia. Since these girls had yet to learn to control their powers perfectly, Cordelia felt a great responsibility to protect them if anything were to happen. And as if Cordelia's nerves weren't worn out enough already, Madison had decided to get stoned before leaving the academy.

The cigarette between her pale fingers died eventually. Hollywood let it go when we came closer to a certain group of people. They were armored with not rainbow but signs that shouted aggressive words like 'Gay sex is a sin,' and 'God hates you.'

"Look at those losers." Madison's voice was pretentious.

Jeering at them like a child on Halloween, she grabbed Zoe's hand and strolled towards the hate group. The whiny protest of Cordelia went disregarded. Confusion was evident on Zoe's face even from a distance, which of course was ignored. Everything happened in a bat of an eye. Madison took out her smartphone, grabbed Zoe by the neck, and took selfies while kissing her full on the lips. The devilish grin only grew bigger and more sinister when the protestors yelled hateful words directly at them.

This made Cordelia folded her arms in front of her chest, her brows knotted together in slight exasperation.

"Oh my God, is that Madison Montgomery? Is that a girl she's kissing?" a thrilled voice of some pedestrian reached my ears, and certainly, Cordelia's ears.

Julia, one of the girls, let out chuckles in amusement. "Miss. Cordelia, can we go do that, too?" Her light blue eyes sparkled, her hand in her girlfriend's.

"No," Cordelia said in her authoritative voice, while trying hard to keep her sigh in check. "Girls, please, we are witches at a pride parade. I don't want any more of what might pour gasoline onto their anger. Is that understood?" She stared disapprovingly at Madison, who had come back. The fact that Zoe was giggling with her didn't help Cordelia's annoyance.

ooOooOoo

People got even louder and more enthused with the impending parade. My heart vibrated with the cheers of the people around me. Never had I ever been surrounded by such a huge mass of elated people. Their smiles were genuine. People in the crowd, and the paraders in the street. Not to have their lives denied, not to be scared for their lives, and to have people who know how wonderful and rare that is. Their lives were perfect, in that very moment, no matter how ephemeral it was.

But something was off. I couldn't completely cast aside the weird feelings inside my chest.

As glitter bombs were launched in the air and rained on us, I grinned and looked at Cordelia. Maybe it was because of the glitter-covered hair and skin, but she looked quite childish. Childish in an unblemished, virtuous way. She looked freer, like a bird in flight. With her bottom lip between her teeth, she smiled back and brushed her fingers against my hand. A hesitant and yet expectant touch.

It seemed, since our 'sexuality talk', she'd made a promise to herself to ask my permission before making any physical contact. Not just for kissing, but also for hugging and holding hands. Those pleas were never spoken. The way her eyes looked into mine said enough.

I offered her a reassuring smile and took her hand, before kissing the back of it. Her cheeks glowed under the sun. Our hands stayed together like that all the while people walked.

One thing I noticed, amongst all the other new things that I had never seen, was that lots of people were in fact dressed like Madison. Men walked around without their shirts and pants, in order to show off their six packs. Their underwear was as small as it could be. It wasn't just men; women walked around in bikinis and some revealing clothes. Be proud of your body and embrace your sexuality, they said. People roared from their guts when strong-built men stripped their clothes off in front of them. They bellowed when one of them whipped another one's ass with a black leather whip.

And that was when I realized. Even in a place where diversity was celebrated and encouraged, I was feeling out of place. That was the identity of the strange feeling inside my chest, my heart. A sense of alienation. _Celebrate your love. Sex is not only between a man and a woman. Two men can have sex. Two women can have sex. It doesn't even have to be two people! Just practice safe sex!_ The entire parade seemed to be shouting with sex positivity. And my heart cried back in unease and bafflement. _Hey, why is everyone so entertained by this?_

While they danced and laughed, a phrase I'd come across a while ago occupied a corner of my mind. It grew bigger as if feeding off the screams and roars of the people. Each word begun to have a vague shape, and when I felt Cordelia's hand squeeze mine, they finally had a solid body.

" _Ace community is so small there isn't much space for us even in the LGBT community. People treat you like you don't exist. Movies are never made for you. Nobody is interested in making songs about you. It's all about sex and they don't see you. You're invisible to them. And when you try and tell them how you feel, they laugh at you or accuse you of doing it for attention. They just don't care, because someone like you doesn't exist in their little perfect world."_

Invisible.

Even those people around me, those who knew how it felt to be marginalized in the society, didn't see me standing among them. I was, and had been, a ghost for my entire life, without even realizing people couldn't see me.

One might point out my relationship with Cordelia and say _"But you can't feel that isolated. You're gay. You still belong here in a way."_ Yet this wouldn't cast aside the feeling of isolation that was embedded so deep in my heart. Dating a woman might make me a lesbian, if that's the label the society wants to assign me. But I'd never felt attraction toward women, or the female body that everyone seemed so infatuated with. Women I'd seen at the parade made little to no effort to conceal their eagerness towards females' nudity, nor did they hold back their tainted intentions. If these people identified themselves as lesbians or bisexuals, then there was no similarity between us. I might be gay in everyone else's eyes, but I certainly wasn't very good at being one.

There was so little knowledge about sexuality or labels on my part. I didn't have enough confidence in myself to refute their argument.

I looked around again. Rainbow in people's hands. Rainbow around their necks and wrists. Rainbow painted on their faces and naked bodies. There was not even a glimpse of the colors of asexuality until the end of the festival.


	16. Mantra

**As always, thank you all for reading and leaving reviews! :D**

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"I think I got tanned a little," Cordelia said while strolling out of the bathroom, examining her darker arms but scrunching her nose up rather contently.

I looked up from the rainbow bracelet in my hands. Seeing my face, her brows knotted together and formed a small mountain across her forehead.

"What's wrong?" She joined me on the bed, gently sinking her body into the mattress.

"Nothin'." I shook my head. The familiar shadow of insecurity clouded her brown eyes. I quickly added: "I guess I still can't get maself out o' the heat o' the event. I've never experienced anythin' like that before, y'know? It was wild, more than the swamp." I felt a pang of conscience for holding back from Cordelia, and I told myself it wasn't entirely a lie.

What I'd seen was a new world of discovery and adventure. Though it'd made me isolated and disheartened, it was endearing to see other people so united. Crossing the borders of race, gender, nationality, and many other factors that divide us in everyday life, they celebrated their pride as one. There was nothing like that, I was certain. Their tie was strong, especially because it was the hatred from outside that bonded them. I'd gotten to see Cordelia smile like she was truly proud of herself. That was all I needed.

"Do you want to see the pictures Zoe took, then?" Letting the silky hair bounce around her shoulders, Cordelia gave me a gentle smile. As I sat beside her, her slender fingers danced on the touchpad, making a few swirls and taps. "Come closer," she told me in a soft voice. It sounded like sort of a plea, or a question that she was scared to be answered.

Our shoulders touched, her skin slightly colder, but softer than mine. Even if today's sun had burned her skin, the years of life spent indoor didn't compare with my dark skin. I tilted my head to the side and admired the way our hair was woven together, swirling with two different tides of the golden ocean.

After seeing the first picture full on the screen, she softly guided my hand onto the keyboard and said: "Press this button when you want to go to the next one, ok?"

To be honest, I'd noticed the smartphone clutched in Zoe's secure hands throughout the event but had no idea what she was doing, nor had I felt comfortable with the shady device pointed at me. So this was what she was doing. I couldn't deny I was impressed.

There were nearly a hundred pictures, and I found myself grinning at them. Most of them were selfies of Zoe and Kyle, but occasionally there were pictures of the parade and the people. Madison with a strong-built drag queen, the girls holding hands and smiling at each other, Queenie and Nan dancing with cowboy strippers, and the parts of the parade I'd missed. Of course, there were also several pictures of me and Cordelia.

My fingers on the keyboard stopped at the expression on Cordelia's face in them. While my eyes were trained on whatever was in the street, her brown eyes were fixed on me. In every single one of the photos.

 _Does she always look at me like that when I'm not looking?_

It was a color of affection, pride, yearning, and wonder all mixed together, tugging at the corner of her lips. I'd seen a fragment of that expression many times before; that was how she smiled at me. But it was only when I wasn't looking at her did the color become even more prominent and vibrant.

We came to the end of the folder, and I felt Cordelia shift her body next to me. Her hand slithered to touch mine. Her pinky finger bashfully but determinedly stroked the back of my hand. Our eyes met, and I _knew_.

In spite of the brightness of the room, her eyes glimmered dark. The way her fingers didn't coerce their way into my hand, the way her eyes bored into mine in a stubborn manner, the way her bottom lip refused to go between her teeth. They were all painfully reflective of the storm inside her.

I laced my fingers with hers, and raised the other hand to cup her cheek, bringing our faces close until our lips connected. Her lips pressed against mine like a magnet, but did not insist. She knew if she tried to take control even in a gentle way, I'd pull back.

"Mm..." she hummed, her hands on my shoulders, our foreheads resting against each other.

With my lips tingling, I tried to remember when was the last time we'd shared a kiss. It must have been at least half a month ago.

She shifted again, and a suppressed sigh escaped her throat as she did so. Her chest was heaving. I didn't miss it when her hips rose from the mattress and her thighs clasped together.

"I'm sorry." Cordelia ducked her head and refused to meet my gaze. Though it was never said out loud, the reason for her apology was quite unmistakable.

The shame in her voice became an arrow and stuck into my heart. I'd never wanted, or imagined a day she'd talk to me in such a tone. _'I'm sorry.'_ It was the same voice she'd used to Fiona.

The coils in the mattress creaked under my weight as I leaned in. My hand rested on her thigh, only to disappear under her sundress.

"I'll take care o' it," I told her when her breath hitched and her eyes widened.

Some words seemed to have risen, but whatever they were, Cordelia swallowed them down. My fingers snuck under her underwear. Her lips parted slightly, her fingers collecting the bedsheets in fists. I kept my gaze on her throat, which moved at every sharp intake of breath. Her neck pulsated visibly, somehow in sync with the pounding of my head.

Perhaps I was guilt-ridden. It might have been my way of seeking redemption. I knew Cordelia touched herself at night while I was asleep next to her. Her unintentional whimpers and trembling limbs had disturbed my sleep one night, consequently causing me to have an insomniac night. She didn't have any other outlet for her sexual urges. And the familiar feeling of guilt returned to me yet again.

There was nothing emotional about the movement of my fingers. Thrusting in and out, stroking the area that made her squirm every time, I was solely focused on giving her a powerful, quick release. Cordelia's jaw was tight as if trying not to let any sounds escape her mouth. She didn't move her hips. She didn't say my name. Her hands stayed off of me. Everything about this, what we were doing, was a labor, no more than an act of assisted masturbation.

Her legs begun to quiver, her eyes closed tight. I knew the release was coming at a rapid speed; I'd done this with her enough to tell. My eyes flicked to her face and went back to her throat again. There were words coming from deep in my throat, the words I knew she wanted to hear. She always wanted to hear them when we were like this.

 _'I love you.'_ Should I say it? The phrase always seemed to add fuel to the intensity of her orgasms. _'I love you.'_ My throat closed itself as her walls squeezed me. _'I love you.'_ But it sounded so wrong.

Love shouldn't look like this, sound like this, or feel like this. Love was Cordelia with her dorky glasses. Love was dancing with Cordelia and singing to Stevie. Love was Cordelia shaking her head to mock-reprimand me when I did something stupid. Love was tending to flowers in my swamp garden and laughing as we get rained on. Love was watching birds fly away while admiring the twilight sky together. Love was sharing the last cookie and arguing over which movie to watch. Love was everything we'd had before.

Love was, not this.

Before I could let the words slip out, she let out a strangulated sob as her whole body convulsed.

"I'm sorry," she repeated her earlier phrase, her eyelashes catching some droplets of tears.

I wasn't sure if those tears were a remnant of arousal, or a ghost of something entirely different. They shone like a spider web after the rain, and I found myself missing the swamp.

ooOooOoo

Something had changed in me since that night. I couldn't explain it with words. I just felt it. There was a cocoon of indefinable feelings that had taken up residence inside my heart, growing every second, itching and dreaming of the light of day.

One thing I knew was that Cordelia, too, had grown more fearful since then. She would say 'I love you' and I would say it back, but I couldn't help but feel that we were just a pair of parrots repeating the only thing they knew. She would smile, but the mask was never thick and tactful enough to hide the shadow of vacillation behind it. When she looked at me, those brown eyes would always have storms of unspoken questions. A sense of uncertainty and despondency was woven into her every action and spoken word as though she couldn't function without it.

It was agonizing to watch. Yet I only stayed in the circle of comfort, just like I'd done many times before. I turned a blind eye and kept pretending to be ignorant of her pain, because I thought- hoped it'd be gone when I turned back around.

At this point, the phrase 'I love you' was nothing but a mantra, the spell to keep us connected. The season was changing. And somewhere on the line between the summer and the autumn, I realized, I could no longer look at Cordelia when I uttered those words.

Indeed, so much had changed since the beginning of the summer. Not just things between me and Cordelia, but other people's lives at the coven, too. Madison had developed a new obsession with alchemy (aka. brewing illicit drugs), Nan and Luke had become more susceptible to conflict, Queenie had begun to go out at night more frequently, and of course, the relationship between Zoe and Kyle, too, was about to change.

"I have a favor to ask," one day Kyle said to me.

The day had started out without any noteworthy events, and I was spending hours in my sanctuary of flora and fauna. It was about an hour after the lunch, when the sun was still high up and baking the top of my head, that I found Kyle standing in the doorway. The black holes of his eyes were making multiple round trips between the ground and me. His rough fingers played with the hem of his shirt in bashfulness and apprehension. I beckoned him to step inside, which he obeyed without a protest.

The weariness was quite palpable in his body language as he stood there, looking around. Zoe had told me before that the greenhouse was the first place of the coven he ever saw, right after he'd slaughtered his mama. It was not the heaven of plants he saw that day, I was sure. Standing there, the memories of chains around his ankles and a piercing sound of gunshot must be still vivid in his mind. This must've felt like going back to the graveyard, where the tombstone with his name carved in still stood in front of him.

"Ok, what is it?" I replied, before gesturing him to continue when he struggled to speak. His face got redder, and I silently wondered if all zombies and Frankensteins were capable of blushing. It seemed like such a privilege of the living.

After some more seconds of fidgeting and mumbling, he finally opened his mouth and said: "I think I'm gonna propose to Zoe."

"Propose?" My voice pitched at the unforeseen turn of the event. "As in... marriage?"

He nodded his head. "This might be too soon if we were normal people. It's only been a little over a year since we started dating. But I know I'm never gonna be with anyone else, and she is the love of my life. Plus, her birthday is coming up, so…"

"So, you're getting married?"

"Not officially, but yeah." Kyle shrugged rather dejectedly, his gaze falling onto the one crack in the surface of the wooden table. "We can never have an official marriage. Technically I'm dead on paper... And I don't think her family would ever understand."

"Then why do you wanna do it?"

"Because I'm madly in love with her. I don't know a lot about love. I don't know what kinds of brain chemicals are produced, or something Nan likes to talk about. But even then, I know when I love someone." He grinned, dimples showing. "I think a lot about spending the rest of my life with her. What kind of life we would have in the next fifty, sixty, and even seventy years together. Sometimes I lay awake at night and just whisper her name, and my last name soon after that. I think about our children... I know I can't give her babies, but I still think about them. What their names would be, whose eyes and hair they would have, and I imagine their little voices saying 'Dad, Dad, read us a bedtime story!'" His eyes returned to me, sparkling with pieces of hope, albeit a bit coy. "I don't know, this might be too sappy. But I think that's how you feel when you really love another person."

While my ears and eyes were mostly focused on his speech, my hands kept grinding herbs. Birds of a feather flock together, I mused. Just like his girlfriend, Kyle had a tendency of beating around the bush.

"So what's the thing you wanna ask me?" I spoke up while he took a pause to breathe.

Blood rose to his cheeks yet again, and then his eyes returned to the ground. "I was wondering... if you'd let us use your garden in the swamp for our wedding. The place has lots of meaning to us, too. It's where everything started. I wouldn't have been here if she hadn't come back for me."

The memory flashed behind my eyelids. The naked, rampant Kyle clutching onto Zoe for his dear life, and my Stevie with black tapes spilling out all over the floor.

"Ok," I told him. "You can use my garden."

His face lit up in an instant. "Thank you, Misty! I owe you one." As he strolled out of the greenhouse, his steps sounded much lighter and merrier than a few minutes ago. "Oh, um, there's one more thing to ask." Stopping in the doorway, sheepish hesitation crept across his face again.

"Actually, this one is for you and Miss. Cordelia," he said.


	17. When Kingdom Falls (1)

**Care for an emotional roller-coaster?**

* * *

Over the past 25 years of my life, I'd had two occasions where I got to attend a wedding ceremony back in my village. I was too young to remember everything, but the dazzling white dress and rose petals scattered across the ground still remained as a vivid image in the back of my mind. _"Why do people get married?"_ I asked mama, who told me that because they held each other dearly. _"Did ya get married to papa because ya loved each other?"_ I questioned again. My heart swelled at the reserved smile that tugged at the corner of her lips in the moment. Shy, but so full of adoration. It was the first, and the last time I'd ever seen her smile like that.

Feeling somewhat nostalgic, I found myself standing inside a jewelry store with Kyle and Cordelia one sunny day. A few days ago in the greenhouse, Kyle had requested both of us to accompany him to choose an engagement ring. He needed opinions, he'd said, from someone who was more acquainted with this stuff than himself. Cordelia was without a doubt that someone, with her past first-hand experience and her general knowledge about the whole marriage thing. Me, on the other hand, why my company was necessary remained a mystery, though I couldn't deny this new experience was stimulating my curiosity.

The place was as spacious as the ancestors' room, the walls as bright as the academy's hallway. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say anyone would believe if told this place was an extension of Miss. Robichaux's. The snowy walls reflected the light and guided it into the small gems displayed in the showcases.

The clerk greeted us with amicable demeanor.

"When's the wedding?" the woman probed, her eyes going back and forth between Kyle and Cordelia. It was obvious that she was assuming Cordelia was the bride.

Both of them remained speechless for a second. I heard wheels grinding in their heads to put the pieces together. Kyle politely corrected her presumption soon, while Cordelia chuckled in gawkiness. I half-heartedly watched the exchange from a small distance. Most of my interest was already occupied by all the twinkling stones. It was a different kind of beauty from the way the Mother Nature captivated me. Sophisticated and yet still radiating the power of the nature. The numbers that were written on tags were the opposite of the beauty, though.

Kyle and Cordelia were taking their time.

"Does she have any favorite jewels?"

"I don't know…She's never said anything like that before."

"When is her birth month?"

"October."

Then a pause followed, which must have been taken for Cordelia to nod. "October has two birth stones, as a matter of fact, Opal and Tourmaline. Let's go take a look at them."

By this point, I had accepted my part didn't hold any substantial meaning to this journey. It was a topic of unknown, anyway. I moved to examine another showcase. My fingertips glided on the cold surface of glass, until my feet halted.

Among the hundreds of multihued make-believe stars, I thought I was looking at the brightest, clearest one of all. Two silver rings twisted together like veins, with a tiny piece of diamond humbly claiming its place in the center of silver petals. Three green minuscule stones were on the left side of the flower. One in deep green similar to the color of alligator scales, and the other in two lighter green that resembled moss.

Cordelia, with the corners of her mouth curled in a sheepish smile, came closer to me. Her right hand aligned with my left one on the glass, though not quite in touch. Our eyes met, and she tilted her head.

"Something you like?" she asked.

"That green one." I pointed at the lavish ring. "Makes me think o' ma swamp."

A simple hum escaped her lips. "It's absolutely stunning."

Her chocolate brown eyes kept boring into mine. It was such a loaded look. I quickly averted my gaze, for her affection felt like flames on my skin.

"This one! She'll love it!" The silence was broken by the jovial voice of Kyle.

Cordelia turned her head around. I saw him beaming at us, his body leaned heavily into the showcase.

ooOooOoo

I got to take a brief look at the ring while Cordelia paid for it. A pink stone twinkled in a black velvety box, and Kyle smiled at me proudly.

"I feel bad, Miss. Cordelia. I swear I'll work extra hard to pay you back," he said as we strolled out of the store.

Cordelia, walking in front of me, waved a hand to dismiss him. "What did I tell you? You help us every day. This is the least I can do to pay _you_ back."

"Ok..." Kyle replied with a shy, yet brave smile, his trademark that had become more frequent as of late. His face grew more reserved and resolute as his fingers fiddled with the box. A string of giggles fell from between his lips when our eyes met. The way his eyes crinkled up was filled with hope.

When the three of us stepped out of the mall, Cordelia abruptly stopped. She spun around to look at us with knitted brows.

"Shit. I might have forgotten something in the store." She began to walk back into the building, while digging in her purse. "Sorry. I'm just gonna... You guys can go back to the car. You know where we parked, right? Here," she handed me the keys and left us there in a blink of an eye.

Shrugging at Kyle, who glanced at me quizzically, I headed to the car, heels clicking against the concrete.

Just right after spotting Cordelia's white car, I thought I'd heard something that sounded like my name.

"Misty!" the voice, definitely closer and clearer now, shouted again.

I turned around and was immediately greeted by the sight of a tall woman. Her long, thick black hair, tied in a messy ponytail, swayed in the air as she walked.

"Stevie!" I felt my heart jump in excitement at this unexpected reunion. The name of my hero slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself. "I mean, Stephanie..."

Her white teeth glowed in the sunlight. "So delighted to know you remember my name."

"It's not an easy name to forget." I allowed myself to chuckle a little, to enjoy this moment.

Her eyes were tender, clear, and childlike just like I remembered. Everything was identical to my images of her, except for her dark skin. It remained unclear whether it was the product of the summer sun, or simply because my brain failed me. In my memory, her skin was paler, like a vampire, under the lights of the club.

The club...

Other related, but unwarranted memories from the night flashed momentarily before my eyes. It was the night that had changed my life. It was the place that had affected my relationship with Cordelia, for good. It was the memory that I wished to have stayed hidden from.

"Listen, I wanna apologize for what happened at the club." I bit my lip, which Stephanie imitated while shaking her head, her ponytail swinging.

"Forget it, sweetheart. It's all in the past now," she answered. "Although, I must confess your girlfriend scared the hell out of me. I'd always thought my mom was the most terrifying person on earth, but..." The end of the sentence was a theatrical shrug. She laughed in mirth again, at the embarrassment and awkwardness on my face.

"She usually isn't like that at all," I told her.

"She only gets murderous when she's jealous?"

"No, not like that. She was just drunk that night is all. She doesn't get jealous or anything."

Stephanie hummed, nodding in a way that told me she wasn't convinced. "Are you still with her?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but a voice that belonged to neither of us interrupted me.

"You bet she is."

Cordelia, who had appeared out of thin air, bared her teeth at Stephanie. Her eyes aflame, there was no fragment of friendliness whatsoever. No remnant of the woman I knew to be Cordelia, the person who had given me a place to call home. There was only hostility. Belligerence was the mask and the armor she wore. Her voice was made of a poisonous sword. I gaped at the stranger's profile in shock.

The silver eyes of Stephanie were wide in amazement, frozen in alarm. Yet they were somehow eloquent enough to show defiance towards Cordelia's irrational wrath. The sound that finally escaped her mouth was a hinted dry laugh. It must have aggravated Cordelia's annoyance. That sound must have crawled deeper under her skin. Cordelia's strong brow twitched, as though it was a premonition of a massive eruption.

After giving me a final glance, my poor friend walked away. Next to me, Cordelia let out a puff of air, grabbed me by the wrist, and started to walk in the direction of our car.

 _How could she?_ my mind was shouting.

The nightmare from several months ago had come back to haunt us. Only this time there was no alcohol involved. All of it was done by the sober mind of Cordelia, controlled by the unreasonable jealousy again. It made me sick. My blood was boiling, and it made me feel like I would pass out, or break into sobs. The only thing that kept me composed, at least on the outside, was the fact that we were in public.

With my fading consciousness, the only sensations were the scalding frustrations and the hand around my wrist. The grip might not have been so tight, yet it felt like a handcuff. It blistered my skin underneath it. Handcuffs are for criminals, to keep them from escaping and harming other people. Any kinds of restrains are never meant for tying down people you love. That's sick. That's not love, but possessiveness.

I shook myself free from Cordelia, making sure the motion was forceful and abrupt enough to express my rebellion. When Cordelia turned around to look at me, I saw a fraction of her mother in the dark eyes. Controlling, wicked, destructive, egotistic, and incredibly weak. Like mother, like daughter. Fiona had always feared her own mortality. Cordelia, though not afraid of death, was possessed by the idea of losing me. Little did she know that she was driving me further from her by tying to lock me up in her cage.

No word was exchanged in the moment. Just glaring each other in the spacious parking lot. And I supposed it was sufficient. Cordelia didn't have a chance to utter anything.

The ride home was stifling. I kept chasing the pavements and white lines. Suppressed sighs would occasionally fill the car, but there were no other sounds to be heard. Even though we didn't argue, the tension was palpable. It was a ticking bomb. One unnecessarily loud sigh and things would have exploded. Kyle must have felt awfully uncomfortable in the backseat.

As soon as we arrived at the academy, I flung myself out of the car. Kyle's faint, hesitant words of gratitude reached my ears, but I was too preoccupied to respond.

The door of the greenhouse shut violently. The sound was deafening, but not enough to save me from the cobwebs inside my chest. Heat crept up my neck, and took root between my eyes. I felt like crying, I really did. All I wanted was to just sink down to the floor and curl up in a ball. But I didn't. I refused to give in, because it meant Cordelia's victory and my defeat. Biting my lip to stop it from quivering, I grimaced at the taste of blood on my tongue.

"You could've at least smiled at Kyle. He thinks he's done something wrong."

I spun around and found Cordelia, whose hand gently shutting the door close behind her. As if it was the nonverbal way to chastise me for being forceful with it earlier.

"We were still talkin', Miss. Cordelia," I squeezed the words out. My voice shook a little.

Her shoulders stiffened, the holy façade faltering. "You were talking. She was busy looking down your shirt," she muttered.

"No, she wasn't. Why do ya always-"

"Yes, she was," Cordelia cut me off. Her determination to stay corrected was gradually, but markedly fading away by the second. "I could see her fucking you with her eyes even from a mile away."

 _For Christ's sake._ I sighed, being tired of this uncalled-for argument. In her world, two people couldn't possibly interact without sexually attracted to each other. Everyone who tried to get to know me did so because they were interested in what I had underneath my clothes. That's some twisted shit right there.

"Stop it. Ya 're being delusional." I walked past her, to be out of the greenhouse. But Cordelia didn't accept it. She didn't like my words or the way I looked at her.

"Don't you dare walk away from me. I'm still talking to you!" she barked at my back.

When I turned around, she seemed as though she, too, was shocked by her own voice. It was dictatorial and frenzied. To describe it as the 'Supreme voice' might not have been such a bad choice, but really, it was Fiona's voice. Cordelia was becoming like her mother, the woman she hated and loved her whole life. Her wide eyes kept staring at me. Her forehead crumpled for a brief moment, like she was on the verge of tears.

She coughed once and twice, folding her arms in front of her chest.

"Misty, you have to be more sensitive to other people's intentions," she continued. "You may not be interested in them like that, but not everyone is like you." Though her voice was calmer now, it still contained thorns of reproach. "I know you're an affectionate person, and you can be quite tactile sometimes. I know it doesn't mean anything to you, but you have to realize you're not a little girl anymore. People fantasize about you. They could act on their feelings. When you touch them or look at them like you do, you can't blame them for assuming it's an invitation."

 _An invitation?_ I repeated her phrase silently. _For what? For sex?_

Whatever words she chose to use, all I heard her say was that I was at fault. For being nice to people. For offering my kindness and showing that they are loved. For 'manipulating' them into thinking they have a chance. All of them were my fault.

"Please, promise me you'd be more careful," Cordelia begged. "You are my girlfriend. You need to act like it."

"If I'm your girlfriend, why do ya nev'r trust me?" The harsh words came out of my mouth abruptly. It wasn't a question, though. It was a statement of the truth. "Ya always, always get jealous. It's like ya don't have faith in me. Like- like ya think I'd cheat on ya someday."

Listening to my own words, I realized, even in the midst of this chaos, that I wasn't really mad at her for driving Stephanie away. It was the glance she'd given me afterwards that made my inside clench. A brief, but expressive look. It was accusatory, fanatical, possessive, desperate, and barbaric. If her grip around my wrist was a handcuff, then her look was a branding iron. Claiming her ownership, she didn't hesitate to leave a burn on my skin.

"I don't get jealous because I don't trust you. I never think you would cheat on me," she insisted. For a split second, a shadow of self-doubt crept across her face. She looked like a child. A little child who was about to be thrown out of the house. Her stormy eyes were trained on the wooden table next us. Despite them mostly hidden behind her golden curls, I could see tears welling up. "I get jealous because I'm insecure, because you always look as if you want to fly away when you're with me. I am scared because I know you'd leave me one day."

"That's not-"

"Don't bullshit me!" The wail pierced through the cold air in the place. She stomped her foot on the ground, her eyes finally glaring straight into mine. A violent thunderstorm wreaking havoc in them. "I've known that look since I was little. Everyone wanted to run away from me 'cause I was a worthless freak. My mother, Hank, everyone. Even Myrtle didn't see my worth. And now you look at me the same. I'm so sick of it!" Her voice cracked, and tears rolled down her hot cheeks soon afterwards. "Why do I always have to be the one who gets hurt?" Gut-wrenching sobs filled our botanic heaven that used to be full of laughter. "You act like a stranger around me. Why don't you tell me how you feel anymore? What happened? We weren't like this."

Behind these words and tears and sniffles, I heard her scream. What happened to the kingdom of us that everyone envied? What happened to the flowers and the stars? They used to bloom for us, and fall down from the sky for us. What happened to the life that was... perfect. What happened to them? What happened?

I stayed quiet, searching for answers to her questions, to our lives. She was crying. It sounded like she was mourning for our past selves, who had died with the kingdom.

"Sometimes I feel like you're not even in love with me anymore," mumbled Cordelia, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.

I know I should've been swift to deny. I should've shaken my head, and said something. At least some words. To reassure her, to stop her tears. But nothing came out, no words of denial, no words of consolation. It was a raw punch in the stomach, and left me paralyzed. I breathed, but oxygen didn't reach my brain or limbs. It was as if my lungs had forgotten what they were.

Cordelia didn't miss any of it. Her eyes caught my hesitation, my uncertainty, my shame, all of them. And the silence was truly, and brutally, loud to tolerate.

"I love ya," I uttered the mantra, as though it was the last thread that kept our hearts together. But it wasn't even an incantation any longer. It was an excuse to escape this. An empty apology, and Cordelia saw right through me.

"But, are you in love with me?" Her eyes searched for mine.

"I…" Something in Cordelia's gaze kept me from looking away. I swallowed. It felt like even blinking wasn't permitted. I had to keep looking her in the eye, the brown spheres that I'd sworn to protect with my own life. My vision blurred. I couldn't stop my face from contorting.

I loved her, always, it was never a lie.

"I don't know what it feels like."

Within a second, Cordelia choked up and looked down. "Oh my God..." Those three words were all she had managed to stammer out before covering her mouth. Piteous sounds leaked from between her fingers. "Oh my God," she echoed the phrase over and over again.

"I love ya, Miss. Cordelia." I reached out to pull her into my arms, but it only made her crying worse.

Her face was hidden behind her shaking hands, her voice muffled but somehow still piercing my heart. And then I realized, behind the foggy mind of mine, that this scene looked familiar. I'd been here before. I had felt this distinctively keen pang of guilt, seen the golden strands shudder feebly around her shoulders, heard her incomprehensible but sharp curses and prayers, and tasted the same tears in my mouth before.

It was the moment my true nightmare came true. I had become the monster in her closet.


	18. Goin' Home

**A/N:** ok, so. First, thank you for still reading. Second, I know some of you are upset that Misty dumped Cordelia (or Cordelia dumped Misty?) in the last chapter. But Misty isn't a villain, she never will be. Cordelia's at fault as much as Misty. They are both guilty for their cowardice. I hope you'll be able to see that in the future chapters. (fingers crossed I'm good enough to convey that with words…)

* * *

It was dark outside. Curled up in a ball, with my forehead perched on my knees, I sat in the corner of the once-safe-haven. It must have been long since Cordelia had pushed me away and run out of the greenhouse. An hour or several hours, I couldn't be sure. It felt like forever to me. The only thing I knew to be true was that I had spent every second struggling to stop my tears and failing and trying again.

This is not to say I hadn't moved from the place at all. In fact, I had followed Cordelia to the bedroom, tears blocking my sight, nearly falling off the stairs. It was all of our pent up emotions and unspoken words that finally caught the fire. No one knew how to distinguish it.

Some girls, including Zoe, passed us by, with their brows knotted together. Fights and disputes were by no means rare occurrences; in the house full of teenagers and Madison, our lives consisted of seeking settlement. Yet, they'd sensed this one was different from other cases. It involved Cordelia, their Supreme, and me, her 'girlfriend.' We were the unbreakable couple of the coven. Everyone assumed that nothing would ever part us. That was exactly what I had thought, too.

Cordelia, being the almighty Supreme that she was, carried her body faster than me. Nobody could have reckoned she was galloping in her pair of 4 inch Gucci at a glance. When I ran into our bedroom, she had already hidden herself in the bathroom. Muffled sobs slipped through the small gap under the door.

"Miss. Cordelia, open the door, please."

"Go away. I can't see your face right now. Please go away. _Please_."

I threw a flower pot against the ground after coming back to the greenhouse. Only one pot, empty and old, chipped in the edge, sitting in the trash can for weeks. I needed something to take my frustrations out on, but I could never destroy Cordelia's greenhouse. It was ours. So I broke the thing that was already destined to be thrown out. It shattered so easily, scattering all over the ground.

The cold ground sent shivers up my spine, and I held my knees even more tightly. There were no more tears. They had crystalized on my cheeks, the salt itching the skin, leaving stains on my shawl and that I was no longer able to sob, I noticed how quiet my surroundings were. The heart in my chest beat faintly, careful not to disturb the stillness of the world.

A clanking sound broke the blank air, and I opened my eyes, seeing no darkness there. Nan stood in front of me, with her boots kicking and stepping on the shards of clay.

"Want 'em?" She held out a pack of cookies. The black eyes gazed at my face, and I felt her usual innocuous obliviousness was lacking. "You're starving," she stated.

Despite myself, a small smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "I didn't know that. Thanks," I said before taking a bite out of one.

Come to think of it, I hadn't eaten anything since the morning, though it was the last thing I was worried about. Having been numb for hours, the sugar on my tongue was too much of a stimulant. I suddenly found myself choking up again.

"You knew it, didn't you?" I said in a whisper, with my eyes on a dry leaf on the ground. Nan remained silent, and I looked up. "That I was never in love with her? You knew it all along, since the beginning."

It was like I'd finally found the last piece of the puzzle. Nan, with her abyss of her eyes, always stared at me every time the other girls busied themselves chatting about me and Cordelia. She'd stare. Silently, but all knowingly. Like burning a hole in my skin with her gaze. It made me uncomfortably insecure, guilty, and ashamed of myself, though I could never fathom why at the time.

"I can only tell what's there and what's not there in your mind," she answered. "I can't tell why it's not there."

She had a point, I knew.

And somewhere deep down in my heart, I'd always known something was off, too. Every time Cordelia said my name in such rapture, every time the girls admired us as a couple, I could only force a smile. Something was very wrong. Not in a sinful way as religious people want to call it. Me and her both being women didn't mean anything to me. It was deeper than that.

I recalled the brief exchange I'd had with Cordelia on one of our movie nights. It was shortly after her ascension to the Supremacy and the Friday night ritual had been established. We would take turns at choosing which movie to watch, and when it was Cordelia's turn, she would always pick one from the romance film section. Her favorite was the one where the female character, gorgeous and rich, but detached and distrusting, meets her 'Mr. Right' and her life turns upside down. We had watched the film at least three times; then her eyes would well up every time as though she didn't see the ending coming.

" _Do ya like romance movies, Miss. Cordelia?"_ I once asked.

" _Who doesn't?"_ she said with her innocuous giggles.

I'd never told her that I much preferred action pack and kids' movies. To me, romance films were so repetitive, cliché, and dull. Whether it was a movie or a book, I never related to the story. Despite having a 'girlfriend', romance sounded like someone else's business. It was like reading someone else's diary.

In retrospect, there was more than one red flag. There were countless, as a matter of fact, that had gone unnoticed or ignored. It had never dawned on me why monthly anniversaries were so crucial to Cordelia, when our friendship had a longer history. Pet names were awkward and made my skin itch. I couldn't comprehend why affectionate and intimate gestures should be reserved for only one person. The conversation with Kyle on marriage had gotten me to realize I'd never fancied such thing. From time to time, I had felt like my 'I love you' and her 'I love you' meant two inherently different things.

But I'd wanted to see the world the way she did, desired to be like her.

"I don't know what to do," I confessed to Nan. I didn't know what I wanted, nor did I truly grasp the whole situation. Tears blocked my vision, so I closed my eyes shut. The burn-in image of Cordelia's twisted face flickered behind my metal-heavy eyelids, and I was forced to open my eyes again. "Does she hate me now?" I asked in a whisper.

"I think you should ask her, not me."

I nodded my head. "I love her," I mumbled to her, and to myself.

Nan gave me a gentle smile. "I know."

ooOooOoo

The next seven days were a series of rejected attempts to get Cordelia to talk to me. Failure after failure. Our daily break sessions were ignored -I would hear her shift on the other side of the door every day, but she'd never answer. She stopped eating with the girls in the dining hall. She barely got out of her office anymore; the only instances where she ever did so, were when she needed to shower. Even then, she would ask to use Zoe and Madison's bathroom. My heart jumped in hope every time the door to our bedroom jiggled, only to sink back after seeing Zoe, who came in to fetch her clothes.

It was made very clear, unbelievably obvious, that she had no intention to see me, let alone talk to me. After all of our piled-up episodes of miscommunication, this message was clearer than any words ever spoken by either of us. Life could be quite ironic, I couldn't help my musing. But I still couldn't abandon hope as I laid at night, thinking she would get tired of sleeping in the office's couch and come back to our bed.

The girl would talk about us, with their sorry expressions. Although it might have been a huge shock to some, most of the girls saw it as mere gossip. Their mouths moved in vigor, and only stopped when I was in their proximity. I saw sympathy being overthrown by curiosity in their eyes. They reminded me of the people in my village.

It was draining; I'd literally cry myself to sleep, and when I was awake, I'd stare at the wall with tears in my eyes. Just as Cordelia locked herself up in the office, I stubbornly refused to leave the bedroom.

The next time the door of the bedroom moved -I kept it unlocked just in case- and someone walked in, I was asleep with my face buried in the pillow, deprived of life juices.

Then there was a dull blow in the back of my head, followed by a light pain.

Jumping awake, I found Madison looking down at me with her sadistic, conceited face. Zoe, who also stood by the bed, rolled her eyes.

"I asked you to wake her up, not smack her in the head." Zoe said to Madison.

"There was a fly. I was simply being nice. And hey, she's awake anyway. What's the problem?" Her keen, headache-inducing voice rang in my head. I brought my hand up to stroke where her smack had landed. Seeing my foggy state, Madison snapped fingers in front of my face. "Would you come back from your candy land already? We need to talk to you."

"About what?" I asked as I glowered at her.

"Oh, you know, I was just wondering how your gator friends are doing in the swamp," Madison sassed with her voice an octave higher. "About your fucking girlfriend, duh!" She almost curled her lip. "I don't give a rat's ass about what happened between you and Cordelia. I don't fucking wanna know how heartbroken you are. But her office is right below my room-"

"Our room," Zoe corrected her lightly, but was ignored.

"-and I can hear her crying in the middle of the night. Every-goddamn-night. It's annoying the shit out of me. Every time I hear her sob, it makes me want to rip my hair out or run in front of a car. Do something, or I will."

Zoe looked askance at Hollywood, and then her eyes returned to me. "What happened? Did you guys break up?" she asked almost feebly, in contrast to Madison's pretentious attitude. For some reasons, her softness was more painful to bear. "I'm not trying to blame you or anything. I know you're suffering, too, but I've never seen her so...depressed. I don't know when was the last time she ate properly. I'm just worried about her."

Zoe was right, I didn't have a choice to deny that. Every time I caught a sight of Cordelia -as soon as she saw me, she would flee-, I could tell her figure was becoming thinner and thinner. Her already tight dress seemed too bulky around her small waist, her prominent cheekbones even sharper. The dark circles under her eyes were too thick to be concealed by makeup. It was a matter of time until she became only skin and bones, a living skeleton stunningly dressed in exquisite clothes and jewelry. But God forbid a Supreme dies from heartbreak.

I heaved a deep sigh. "I wanna talk to her, too. But she wouldn't even let me see her."

"Don't you think we know that already?" Hollywood retorted. "Even a blind person can tell she's been avoiding you."

"Madison," Zoe shushed her.

"Oh, fine. Whatever." Madison scowled at Zoe. Rolling her eyes for the hundredth time, she said: "We kicked her out of the office, and she's not in the kitchen, not in here obviously. No one has seen her leave the property. So naturally, she's in the greenhouse."

I unconsciously collected the bedsheets in my fists. My heart, the heart that only knew to ache for the past seven days, suddenly pounded and trembled at this opportunity to actually confront Cordelia.

 _What would I say? What would she say?_

Madison gave another smack in the side of my head, clumsily but effectively interrupting my anxious thoughts.

"Fuck you, Hollywood." I bared my teeth at her, while stroking my head. "Why did you have to do that? You have a goddamn voice. Use it."

The response was a raised brow, arched in arrogance. "Yeah, right back at you," she said.

ooOooOoo

The greenhouse's door was unlocked; I couldn't be certain whether it was thanks to Madison's lock-picking skills or a sign of Cordelia's low guard. As I stepped inside, my eyes caught the figure of Cordelia.

Poor Cordelia. She, with her hair tied up in a ponytail, sat in the chair. The string of pearls around her neck glimmered in the voluptuous lights. They only made her skeletal neck painfully evident. Each bone of her vertebrate moved under her colorless skin, disappearing under her white blouse, where I could see her sharp shoulder blades. The way her body moved was as lethargic as a windup toy that was running out of power. Stagnant like a river in a desert.

I took some steps, and waited for her to turn around. A second ticked by, and then another. I watched as she held a round beaker in her hand, the other one fumbling with the pages of a book. I took a deep breath. She didn't turn around. I took one more step forward. She kept toying with the pages.

As if to make a cruel contrast with her woeful state, the golden color of her hair remained rich and shiny. At last, I raised a hand and stroked her hair.

It must have caught her off guard. The beaker slipped through her slim fingers, as a sharp intake of breath echoed in the place. The glass shattered against the ground, the liquid content splashing at our feet. The brown eyes of Cordelia stared into the space between the glass shards and her empty hand.

"Shit, sorry. I'm-"

"You scared me," she cut me off. Her voice sounded coarse and frail, like she hadn't spoken for days.

"Sorry. I didn't mean ta…" I bit my lip and lowered my gaze.

Looking at her face was even harder than I'd originally imagined. Not because of the guilt. It was because of her eyes that were hollower than when I had gotten a glimpse of her a few days prior. They were reflective of her heart. Her hollow heart. It scared me how a person could still breathe and walk on this earth, when their eyes saw nothing.

"I just thought ya knew I was standing there."

She knotted her brows. "Why?"

"Ya always knew when I was right behind ya."

A brief silent surrounded us after she'd heard my answer. And then she said: "You always giggled when you sneaked upon me."

"…Oh."

I'd always assumed she had a third eye in the back of her head or something. _"It's no magic,"_ she had told me before. The memory felt so distant.

"Didn't you know?"

"No."

Cordelia, instead of conversing any further, took out a broom and collected the pieces of glass. I stood there, knowing she'd push me away even if I tried to help. The glass shards joined the clay pieces of the flower pot I'd destroyed, in the trash can.

The air was thick, thicker than the couple of heavy silences we'd shared before. No wonder. This time, for the first time, I was the only one who wanted to fix things. Cordelia walked to the shelves, where she stored her herbs, as though she couldn't see me.

"Miss Cordelia," I managed to stammer out. The words that were surging from my chest were such a familiar phrase. "I'm sorry." I felt my eyes well up again. "I nev'r meant ta hurt ya, I swear. I- I miss ya. I miss our lil moments. I miss watchin' movies together 'n' fallin' asleep in your arms. I miss workin' in here together 'n' concoctin' the potions only we know how ta make. I-"

"Why did you lie to me?" Cordelia, as though my voice couldn't reach her, interrupted me.

"I never lied to ya, Miss. Cordelia."

"You said you loved me."

My jaw tightened involuntarily as her words squeezed my heart. "I never lied to you," I repeated my words, pronouncing each word with more clarity.

"Listen ta me, Miss Cordelia. Listen closely." I knelt down, with my hands on her shoulders, coercing her to face me. Her gaze still remained on the stuff on the table. The air came in from the open door, and her eyelashes feebly trembled. "I love ya. Ya are the most important person in ma life. Ya taught me there were still people worth savin', when I thought all humans were evil. Ya taught me what it's like ta have a sister, a sister that I never had. Ya are ma best friend, my first and last true, genuine friend."

Cordelia opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to have decided against it. I could hear her inner war as I patiently waited. Perhaps there was still hope, however little it was, inside my heart. Perhaps I thought she'd forgive me here and everything would be the way they used to be. What a mistake. I should've known that her hollow eyes no longer saw anything, but her own sorrow.

"You were never a friend to me," she murmured eventually. "I was in love with you. I don't want us to be goddamn best friends. I'm still fucking in love with you."

To me, the first phrase already felt like a death sentence, the end of my world. But Cordelia kept stabbing me with more words. The memories of us crumbled down at my feet in an instant. And tears rolled down my cheeks very silently.

I blinked a few times, searching for words among the debris, just to see if anything, something of our world, still had a chance of survival. If there was a little sign of life, I thought, I could manage to bring it back to life. But my eyes caught the bucket under the table and the dirty towel draped over it, and my fire of hope died out. It was Cordelia's towel, the small piece of cloth with embroidery of a green owl. I had given that to her months before. _"I'm not going to use this as a rag,"_ Cordelia had said with a coy grin.

I shut my eyes tightly, and screamed into the darkness, cursed my weak heart. This was her answer. To pretend that our memories didn't exist. To delete me from her life. How silly and naive of me, to keep believing in our souls, when Cordelia had decided to set our world on fire a long ago. Nothing can survive a furious fire. The only thing left there was ashes.

I ran out of the greenhouse. Maybe it was beginning to drizzle, I couldn't be sure. When I realized, I was standing in our bedroom, with my fists on either side of my hips, on the verge of hyperventilating.

Before I would get accustomed to the pain again -and convince myself to wait for her to come back to me-, I grabbed a bag, and started to pack. There was no place for me anymore here in the coven. Not when Cordelia didn't need me right next to her throne. The bag wasn't huge. All I needed to take with me was some change of clothes and my cassette tapes and Stevie Jr. The rest of my stuff could stay here. Cordelia could have them.

"Whoa," Queenie, walking into the room and seeing my state, opened her mouth. "Where are you going?"

"Home," I answered without taking a pause. "I'm goin' home"

"Your home is here."

"Not anymore."

"Let me guess, because Cordelia shut you out," she said it as-a-matter -of-fact-ly. I said nothing, did nothing, but glare. "So is that it? Just like this? You are walking away just because one person rejected you?"

"Ya don't get it," I almost yelled. "She's not just one person. She is _the_ one person. Everythin' I am is because o' her. And now she acts like I don't even exist." The frustration threatened to spill from my eyes again, and I quickly dropped my gaze. "Maybe I shoulda stayed in hell."

"Don't say things like that."

"I envy ya, Queenie." I forced a feeble smile. "She gave ya a place in the council. She needs ya. Ya 're important ta her." I wiped tears off my cheeks, before walking out of the bedroom, the messenger bag heavy on my shoulder.

"Misty." Queenie stopped me in the doorway.

Words uncharacteristically failed her in the moment as her eyes looked right into mine. I was rather glad she didn't tell me how sorry she was- it would've made me feel more pathetic.

I offered a small smile. "Can I ask ya a favor?"

She took a pause, before stating: "No."

My smile became a genuine one for a fraction of a second at that. I even dared to laugh a little. "Take care o' Miss. Cordelia. Make sure she eats well and smiles a lot," I said.

If I had given her a chance, she would have told me to do that myself, would've told me it was my responsibility. As crude and blunt as her words were, they always comforted me in some bizarre way.

I felt the girls' eyes on me as I walked through the hallway. Some of them were concerned, some confused, and a tiny portion of them showed total indifference.

The path from the grand door to the academy's gate was the longest walk I'd ever experienced. It had never felt so long, or so draining, when Cordelia was next to me. I stopped by the greenhouse. Part of me screamed to just walk away, to leave Cordelia alone. Yet the other part of me knew I shouldn't just disappear. I wasn't Miss. Myrtle, and Cordelia deserved to be informed about my departure, no matter what the circumstances were. It was up to her to decide whether or not she should care.

I put my hand on the knob, but it didn't open.

"Miss. Cordelia, it's me," I called out. "I know ya ain't wanna even listen ta ma voice, but... I'm goin' back ta ma swamp, so... ya don't have ta sleep in the office anymore, ok? Ya can use the bed by yaself. And- and please eat somethin'. It don't have ta be healthy food. Just eat somethin', o' Queenie's gonna kick ya butt, y'know? I think- I think there's a bag o' chips o' somethin' in the kitchen pantry. The shelf above the fridge. I kept it hidden 'cause I knew ya were gonna scold me for it." A string of quiet chuckles fell from between my trembling lips. _Don't cry. Don't cry._ "Ya can have it. It's... it's better than eatin' nothin', right?"

There was no reply from the other side. I was literally talking to a door. When I thought things couldn't get any more pathetic, it did. _For Christ's sake, don't you dare cry._

"Miss. Cordelia." I felt her name, the sound that had saved me many times in my life, leave my mouth, knowing this would be the last time. "I love ya. I really do." _You fucking cry baby._ "Why can't I love ya like other people do?"

My eyes stung. All I wanted was for Cordelia to love me the same way I loved her. All she needed was for me to love her the same way she loved me. And the door didn't move.


	19. God's Garden

My life had gone back to the way it used to be before I found the coven and met Cordelia. The swamp, my shack, and my friends in the Mother Nature. Everything seemed, at least on the surface, the same as the images I had in my memory. Yet, the swamp seemed bigger and more barren, my shack grimmer and more stifling, the night sky darker and emptier, than I'd ever known.

Although my bed was a twin-sized one, it also felt so huge. I curled up in a ball under multiple blankets, feeling like they could suffocate me in my sleep. Tossing and turning, I threw the thickest blanket off me eventually. I didn't need that many of blankets; Cordelia did, when we were friends, when I was still ignorant of her feelings.

" _I can't believe you can sleep under only one blanket, Misty," Cordelia said, her shoulders trembling. Her teeth clattered as we laid on the bed together._

 _The sky above the shack was covered with heavy clouds. The low temperature of the night left frost on what was left of the plants in my garden. It had been forecast to snow after the midnight._

" _Ya really can't handle the cold weather for someone who's the strongest o' all the Salem witches, can ya?"I laughed in the back of her neck, where goosebumps covered her skin. With my arms strongly wrapped around her waist, I brought our bodies closer to secure warmth._

 _Cordelia turned over in my arms so her brown eyes would look into mine. "What does the fact that I'm the Supreme have to do with this?" Her brows furrowed in slight confusion, though her voice with a hint of playful defiance._

" _Ya'd think a Supreme could survive Antarctica or a volcano."_

" _I'm the witchest witch, Mist, not a cyborg." Breathy chuckles escaped her mouth, turning white soon afterwards. Her body shivered once more. "Fuck, it's really cold."_

 _I grinned despite the situation. "Ya said fuck."_

" _Ha ha, very funny." Cordelia made a miserable attempt to form a sarcastic smile. Her cold, rigid cheeks wouldn't allow for it. "Seriously, remind me to bring blankets next time we come here, otherwise I would freeze to death."_

" _I'd resurrect ya."_

" _I'd like not to die a preventable death in the first place, thank you very much."_

We slept under one blanket that night. I tried to cover her skin with myself as much as possible. Throughout the night, she'd jerk awake and tremble like a little bird every hour or so. And every time, I'd hold her closer. Her nose buried in my curls, her lips lightly pressed to my pulse point, her clasped hands between our chests. Her feet were the coldest of all, I remember. She would tremble again and again, no matter how much I tried to warm her.

For the first time at the night in the swamp, I shuddered myself awake countless times. My jaw hurt, and the sound of my clattering teeth kept echoing, even in my limbo-like dreams. Owls hooted throughout the night, as if to curse my soul.

ooOooOoo

Within no more than a week of living in the swamp, I realized how spoiled I had become. For the past year, I had gotten accustomed to the life at the academy. It might not have been such a luxurious life to some, like Madison, who strived to live off cigarettes and Champaign, but it was way more resourceful than my ruin of a house. I had to forget about the coven, I decided. I must, if I wanted to keep walking by myself, without looking back to see if Cordelia was behind me.

The nature was good. It was never unfair. Although sometimes merciless, it never treated me any differently from other animals.

The swamp in autumn was a lot different from in the summer, naturally. The leaves fell from the trees, stripping them down to nothing. The gators, on chilly days, would semi-hibernate and rest on the bottom of the water, or simply hide in their gator holes. I could only see them on somewhat warm days, or when they emerged to the water surface in need of fresh air.

My shack wasn't particularly close to the tour course, but I could hear people's laughter and the engine of a boat in a distance. From time to time, some oblivious tourists would sneak into my shack, whether in my absence or not, thinking it was a ruin. They would come in search of adventures, or some private place to fool around in. I had walked in on them a couple of times before.

After about two weeks or three -I didn't keep track of time very well-, I had another unexpected guest. What was different this time, though, was that it wasn't a couple of horny tourists. It was Zoey, on a mission to take me back to the academy. On her left hand, a small pink stone of her engagement ring reflected the dim sunlight. The conversation was exactly the same as the one I'd had with Queenie. It was all over again, and such a useless attempt. Convincing me to go back was just as impossible as fighting gravity.

"You guys belong together. You are the only two people who can't see that." she had told me before leaving the marsh.

I wondered how much they knew, if Cordelia had told them anything at all. It seemed like Zoe believed we'd broken up because of a simple fight, and that there was still a chance of getting back together.

ooOooOoo

Halloween would always be my favorite time of the year, as well as the cursed season. It reminded me of when I met Cordelia for the first time.

I rarely went to the town anymore; there simply wasn't a reason to. But on the day of Halloween, right after the sunset, I allowed myself to stroll down French Quarter. The streets were filled with people in costumes, the air lightened by children's laughter and drunkards' incomprehensible shouts. Party music was blustering in clubs and pubs. The wind sent a wave of chills down my spine, and I wrapped my shawl more tightly around my shoulders.

I passed by people dressed up as a vampire and a rotting zombie, with beer bottles in their grey hands. I found myself smiling. It was oddly funny that the real zombie I knew was the least zombie-looking guy on earth.

I wondered what the girls were doing in the moment. They might be having a party in the academy building, they might be out in the neighborhood for trick-or-treat. Madison, without the slightest doubt, must be walking around in her skimpy costume, and Queenie must be arguing with her. A sigh escaped my lips. I'd never thought I'd miss their nonsensical, unproductive fights, but I did. Perhaps it wasn't such a genius idea to come to town, I thought.

A group of people behind me burst into laughter. With their squeals absorbed in the darkening sky, I turned around. A head of blonde hair. I saw a blonde woman out of the corner of my eye, swishing the hair around her bare shoulders. My heart leaped so suddenly I thought it'd jump out of my throat. But she turned her face slightly to me, and I saw her black lips and thin eyebrows. It wasn't Cordelia. It was someone who didn't resemble Cordelia even in the slightest.

Another passer-by bumped into my shoulders. I wobbled, but couldn't move my legs as if they were super-glued to the ground.

ooOooOoo

Winter was coming, I could smell it in the wind and see it on my skin. I watched the sky get further and further every day. The remaining leaves on the trees fell with dry sounds, blown away to the ice-cold water of the bayou. The frosty ground squealed softly under my weight as I walked around my garden.

Although the majority of the garden was in a gloomy brown, the color unique to the season, there were some flowers that kept the picture from being completely colorless. They were the species that only blooms in winter, in the cold weather. They strived despite the cold, absorbed it and turned into something so sparkling.

" _I like winter flowers," Cordelia said with her fingertips caressing the petals of Christmas rose. Such a gentle touch, as though to handle a baby. It was moments like these that her motherliness showed. It was woven into her instinct._

" _Yeah?"_

 _Cordelia nodded. "They remind me that even when everything is dead, there's always life somewhere if you look closely." Her smile was tender. "There's always light in the darkness."_

 _I hummed as I crouched beside her. "Not everythin' is dead, though. I mean, there are bugs sleepin' underneath the dirt." My fingers touched the cold ground at my feet. "Plants and flowers are just restin' for the spring. Winter isn't so bad. I like winter. If it ain't cold, we can't see the snow, right?"_

" _I don't like the cold weather," she said after scrunching her nose up, her shy smile as pretty as the flowers before us._

" _Ain't that why blankets were invented?" I chuckled._

 _ **She comes in deepest sleep**_

 _ **Can't help but fall at her feet**_

 _ **Won't let her in for all I've seen**_

 _ **This I will take to my grave**_

Stevie Jr. softly sang in the garden, nurturing the plants, protecting them from the world. But there were no more tears to be shed. I had experienced the sting in my eyes so much, had wet my cheeks so many times. There seemed to be nothing more that I could possibly shed tears for.

I knelt down and touched the Christmas rose. The petals, colored with faint green and pink, were stiffer than they looked. This species comes in many colors, Cordelia once taught me. _"Next winter, I want to plant ones of a different color here,"_ she said. _"The ones that are reddish purple in the center and white on the edge. What do you think?"_

The winter was here, but the garden remained the same as the year before. I wondered if she remembered what she'd said. I couldn't blame her, though, even if she'd forgotten about the flowers. They were just flowers.

I looked about, and found a tiny creature among the dead, shrunken leaves. A little dead bird. It hadn't had the time and power to fully close its eyes. The fragile body was even smaller than my fist, so frail it would crumble down if I squeezed it any more tightly. Bringing my other hand to hover over the body, I poured a little bit of my life into it. One second, and before I could count three, the bird flipped its wings in my hands. I watched as it flew away higher and higher, until it blended into the cerulean sky.

Even long after that, I kept my eyes on the blue canvas, musing how far I had come. I hadn't known how to control my power until Cordelia taught me. Even resurrecting a small dead bird used to drain me of energy and cause me to faint on the spot.

Everything was Cordelia, I finally realized. Not just in my memory. Every action I took or merely contemplated taking, there was Cordelia in them. From the moment we met, it seemed, our lives were strongly intertwined with each other, savoring the same joy, sharing the pain so the other wouldn't have to tolerate the full amount of the agony.

 _ **I see her walk on water**_

 _ **Head held up high**_

 _ **Playing in God's garden**_

 _ **I'll be there to hold you when you cry**_

Cordelia did not just teach me about myself. Since she walked into my life, every song of Fleetwood Mac had sounded differently. The lyrics had changed their meaning.

I looked up again, and realized the sky was turning orange behind the blurry screen of tears.

ooOooOoo

More days passed me by, and one day, there was a knock on my door, pulling out of my empty thoughts. My body was heavy as I dragged myself out of the bed. If it was Zoe, in her second attempt to bring me back, I was going to make her go home alone again.

But it wasn't.

Opening the door, the wind blew in and ran through each strand of my hair. In the twilight sky, I saw the pale white moon on the purple canvas, and a flock of birds flew across it. Goosebumps rose on my skin. I was sure, in that moment, nothing was more beautiful than the winter in the swamp.

 _I could make this swamp my kingdom again,_ I thought.

I shifted my focus to the person standing in front of me. The silky hair reflected the diminishing sunlight. Her eyes shone, albeit incredibly nervous. White breath swirled out of her lips that quivered in cold.

Neither of us spoke for a while. I stared into the chocolate brown eyes, and Cordelia stood there, silently and patiently.

 _ **Don't know what my destiny will bring**_

 _ **Could you spend eternity with me**_

* * *

the next chap will be from Cordelia's point of view!


	20. Cordelia

**A/N:** This is from Cordelia's point of view! Just to fill the blank between their separation and reunion at the swamp. (This might be pretty much all over the place but what the heck)

* * *

I had a nightmare that returned to me once in a blue moon, especially on nights when the sky had no stars in it.

The story would go differently each time; sometimes I would be in the swamp, some other times I'd be in my old house and looking at the 10-year-old me. But the ending was always the same, the only part of the dreams that never had a variation. It would always end with Misty leaving me and completely disappearing from my life.

The first time I had the dream was shortly after we'd begun our relationship. It was almost the exact replica of the day of Seven Wonders, the fateful moment I nearly lost her to Papa Legba and his limbo. In the dream, her body was getting cold in my grip as I chanted the Latin incarnation. **V** **enite ad me sequere lucem...** Yet despite my attempt, she turned into ashes. The more tightly I held her, the quicker her body crumbled down. The ashes slipped through my fingers, silently, as though they had no mass, as though her existence had been a mere fantasy of mine all along.

It had seemed so random at first, nothing of significance, no more than a simple, nonsensical hallucination, until it became a recurring dream. It became more frequent, in fact, after Misty and I had talked about her asexuality and our sexual relationship.

Even though I understood it was just a dream, my heart was, in fear of it coming true, reluctant to even lay in the bed at night.

 _"Oh, Miss. Cordelia, ya are prolly stressin' out too much_ _,_ _" Misty said, after I'd told her about the nightmare. "I ain't goin' nowhere. Ya saw how I came back from ma hell, right? I'm plucky like that. Ya'd have ta drag me while I kick_ _'n'_ _scream if ya ever wan_ _na_ _get rid o' me."_

She embraced me tightly, without giving me any pain or breathing problems. It was warm, reassuring, full of love, full of gentle strength, just like herself. Her promise had kept me safe, and kept me whole.

Now that was she was no longer here to hold me, the pieces of my heart were scattered around on the ground. And the harsh, tormenting words of my mother solidified and filled the void in my chest. _"You are weak. You are worthless. Nobody is going to want to love a failure like you."_ Shit, Fiona was freaking right. She must be snickering in hell. _"I told you so,"_ I heard her say.

When the truth came out and my world ceased to exist, I realized the dream was simply, and truthfully, reflecting my biggest fear. To have my heart destroyed and stomped on by the person I so blindly love and trust.

There had been many times before where someone betrayed me without hesitation or remorse. Fiona, Hank, and too many people to count, to be honest. My life was, in a way, a collection of betrayal and abuse against my heart. I'd learned at an early age that trusting people meant submitting my heart for sacrifice.

Trust was a contract to me, something I decide with my rational mind to have or not to have. The people who betrayed me in the past, they never broke my heart, because they didn't have it in the first place.

Misty was the first and only person, besides Myrtle, whom I'd deemed trustworthy enough to handle my heart, and as if it had been written in the stars, I even let her touch my soul. Psychology says, the more you trust someone, the more you would allow the person to hurt you. What a fateful species we are. Even when you are aware of the possibility for heartbreak, your instinct wouldn't allow you to build walls around your heart to protect it.

To be quite honest, I don't remember what happened in my life after Misty's confession in the greenhouse. As some prominent novelist said, there is a difference between merely existing and truly living. And I, with dark circles under my blood-shot eyes, was the true definition of a person who merely existed.

My body floated a bit above the ground. Anything that reached my ears sounded like a foreign language and didn't make sense to me. With every breath that my lungs besought for, I felt my energy leak through my mouth. Every thought that came to my mind reminded me of Misty. Her golden curls, the sapphire eyes, that smile, and my name on her tongue, her husky voice.

It was too much, and I eventually ceased to let my mind function.

I'd become insomniac, unable to even close my eyes for longer than ten seconds. Madison had given me her sleeping pills, which she, still to this day, needed occasionally to fight her own sleeping problems due to her traumatic experiences. Whether or not it was a product of pity remained a great mystery. Though I appreciated the gesture, I never took those pills out of the bottle, not even one. I had no desire to sleep. My body and heart were in agreement, except for my eyes, which seemed to have no power whatsoever to stop the tears.

"You need to get outta here," Queenie told me about one week after I'd begun to practically live inside my office.

I looked at her from behind the piles of paperwork, a pen held in my possessively tight grip. "I'm getting things done. I don't see any reasons why I shouldn't stay in here." My voice was even hard to hear myself, which was quite understandable given the fact that I hadn't eaten anything substantial for a couple of days.

"You look like shit."

"I have a mirror."

Her nostrils flared in what I deemed as anger. "Where?!" she nearly shouted. "Obviously not in here. I don't see it anywhere. Is the mirror you're takin' about in your goddamn bathroom? Because I know you haven't gone back there for a freakin' week."

I dropped my gaze and sank deep in my chair, void of the energy to dispute with her. For a brief moment, I went somewhere else and wondered to myself if this was how it felt to have a proper mother. Fiona wouldn't have given half a crap.

"Look, you don't have an obligation to tell me or anyone else what happened between you and Misty." She grimaced as a heavy sigh fell out of her mouth. "But I'm worried. The girls are worried. Misty's thing, too. She hasn't come out of the bedroom for days. It's not just about you anymore, Cordelia. Everyone in this coven-"

"She lied to me," I stated quietly, cutting off her speech that could last for hours.

"...Lied about what?"

"She said she loved me." It sounded familiar for some reasons. Perhaps I'd said the same thing to Misty, perhaps I had been repeating it in my head, over and over and over, until it was the only thing that my diminishing brain could remember. "I've been in love with her, always, and she said she loved me, too. But she was never in love with me. It's been a huge lie. Her heart... She was never mine."

Queenie remained silent for a while, so silent and motionless that I thought she had no more worthless points to make.

But at last she said: "Y'know, someone once told me there was a hierarchy of love. What types of love people prioritize in their lives and shit. Spouse or romantic partner comes to the very top of it, best friend the second, regular friends the third, the fourth is acquaintances, and strangers are at the bottom," she continued to talk, not even making sure if I was listening. "and it got me confused. I was like, why do that kind of hierarchy have to exist? Because to me, my family and friends, you guys, are more important than boys. Those stupid guys would go away after getting what they want, but friends would stay with me and support me no matter what, right? And I would do anything to protect you guys. If it ain't love, I don't know what is. I don't want to think my love towards you guys is less of it just because I don't have romantic feelings for you."

I turned my head on the headrest of my chair so my eyes would be on her face, but not necessarily looking at her.

She shrugged as our eyes met. "I don't know, I'm not Nan. I can't read people's minds and understand their emotions... But, maybe that's why Misty's so hurt?"

Something jumped inside my chest at the mention of my ex-lover. _Not my heart, not my heart._ My eyes bored a hole in her dark skin as she was oblivious to the turmoil in me.

"Even if it isn't romantic love, there is no doubt she loves you. She adores you. It's so fuckin' obvious it hurts. And..." she, for a fraction of a second, hesitated to continue, for she was very much aware how I would react to her next words. "y'know, you push her away like this, sayin' she don't love you an' callin' her a lier. If Nan did the same thing to me, I would-"

"Get out," I growled at her. My voice shook with fury, a powerful emotion I hadn't felt for a week. "Get the fuck out of my office." I bared my teeth again when she made an attempt to speak any further.

With what was left of my power, I flung the door open with a flick of a hand. The sound of the door hitting the wall echoed in the room. A wordless, but effectively threatening gesture, which I knew nobody in the coven couldn't dare disobey or ignore.

ooOooOoo

I watched the sky get dark, and bright, and dark again several times in my insomniac state. It was a dull repetition. The sun and the moon. But it was soothing, it was comforting, because they were like the only things that I knew would never leave me.

When the sun killed the moon for the seventh time after Queenie's fruitless visit, I had another unwarranted guest. Madison, rushing into the office like a hurricane, took a deep drag on her cigarette in front of the desk.

"Get out of here. This office is mine from now on," she said.

"…Excuse me?"

"Leave my office immediately, meaning _now_."

No explanation, no negotiation. It was the highest form of preposterous arrogance. It was so Madison.

"The last time I checked, I was still the headmistress of this academy," I countered, as firmly as my shrinking vocal cord was capable of.

"Headmistress my ass." She curled her lip. "You look like a fucking skyscraper under construction." Her charcoal eyes ran over my scrawny frame. "Get out of here, or I will set the curtains on fire."

"That is literally not how it works-"

"Last time I checked," she mimicked my earlier phrase. "this office belongs to Cordelia Goode, not her skeleton friend. You're uncalled for here, skelly. It smells of death and rotten flesh. If you want to have a funeral, do it elsewhere. Now, get out so I could tidy up."

I couldn't help but heave a sigh. It was impossible to reason with Madison, I should've known, for she becomes practically blind once she sets her goals.

Before I could even struggle to utter another protest, she flicked her hand in the air, and opened the windows behind my desk. The curtains, which had been kept closed for weeks, twirled with the incoming breeze. I squinted at the brightness of the outside world.

"For Christ's sake, it smells like a graveyard in here." I heard her mumble under her breath.

Having been thrown out of my office, I felt like a fish out of water. I was lost, in the house I had known for more than twenty years. I considered going to the kitchen or the ancestors' room, but there'd be girls. If there were girls, I would have to deal with their inquiring eyes and intrusive Clairvoyance.

I eventually retreated, with a tail between my legs, to the greenhouse, the place that literally had witnessed the best and the worst moments of my life. The place where everything started, and everything ended.

The first step into the botanical house was timorous, a step of a pigeon, just quiet enough to go unnoticed in case Misty was there, too. But despite my apprehension, the place was empty. In two weeks, the plants had grown so spontaneously and so freely, without anyone to prune them. The heels of my Calvin Klein, as I strolled towards my working desk in the corner, clicked against the grey ground.

Almost falling onto the stool, I listened to the silence that surrounded me. There was something quite bizarre, even unnatural, about being in here without the voice of Stevie Nicks. _Funny_ , I thought to myself. Until Misty came along, this had always been my usual. This silence, my whole life, this loneliness.

I raised my hand and wiped my wet cheeks with the back of it, just the same way I'd always done since my childhood, more times than there are stars in the night sky.

 _There should be more potions_ , I decided in desperate need of distraction, though there was already an adequate amount of potions in the cabinet. _I could experiment. I could brew something I've never made._

I carried my body, with a few steps, to the small bookshelf, where I kept ancient books of alchemy, settling upon one thick book. My focus was solely on the book as I walked back to the desk, and as a result, I failed to acknowledge the watering can at my feet.

A loud, hollow sound of tin, accompanied by a splash of water, filled the silence for a split second.

"Shit." I looked down, and found the water on my leg and my pair of cream Calvin Klein. "Fuck!"

I felt my breathing quicken, my jaw tighten, and my vision blur again. It wouldn't have been such a big deal on any other days. I wouldn't have given a crap about my shoes, or my dress for that matter. But it wasn't an issue of vanity; I wasn't Fiona. It was an issue of my life that couldn't hold its shit together for longer than a second. I'd been kicked out of my own office, and in less than half an hour, I had managed to have my leg and shoes soaked.

I had yet to know at that point, that things would get worse than that.

Quickly rushing back to the working desk, I reached for the rack that stored rags, only to find there was only one left in it. The golden eyes of the green owl comically, and yet somehow judgmentally, stared back at me. It must have been mixed up somewhere, I figured, because it really wasn't supposed to be in there. Life was ironic, so much to the point it was cruel and hilarious. If I hadn't been so heartbroken, if Madison had left me alone, if the watering can hadn't been where it was, if the towel had gone to its right destination, then things would've been different. There were so many what-if's, and so many what-can-you-do's.

My fingers shook as I grabbed the towel, though it was only until the towel touched my leg and absorbed the dirty liquid. Watching the cloth get dirtier and dirtier in my grasp, I felt my pain washed away. I could never explain why, ever. Perhaps, by disregarding our memory like this, and by getting her heart broken like this, I felt I could make myself feel better, like this.

After getting back to the desk, I begun to turn over the pages of the book I'd gotten out of the shelf a minute ago. It was the first alchemy book I'd ever bought. Practically, more than half of my knowledge of the field came from this book. Yet, because of its massive amount of information and intricacy, two third of it still remained unlearned.

I turned over more pages.

 _Forgetting potion_ , the title read, and it continued; _Amongst many kinds of memory potions, this one is able to remove only one particular person from the drinker's memory. In making this potion, part of the person the drinker wishes to forget about is required: hair, nail, a drop of tear, saliva, etc._

Over and over again, my eyes ran over the words. Silently at first, following the words with a finger for the second time, the third time I read them out loud, and then a little bit louder for the fourth time. Over and over.

 _Obtaining Misty's hair would be a piece of cake._

On the spur of the moment, I gathered all the gradients, which the greenhouse fortunately had in stock, except for her hair, of course. It was overdue, perhaps, to come up anything like this. But if I ever wanted to get over Misty, there was no other way than forgetting about her, about the life we'd had together, about the love I'd thought she had for me.

Even though the potion had yet to be completed, I felt like the memory of her was already fading away. The first stage of getting over a tragedy is acceptance. My heart, without the potion, was perhaps already accepting the life without her and her love.

That was when I felt someone stroke my hair from behind. The ear-splitting sound of glass shuttering echoed, and I stared into space, feeling my shoes get wet for the second time. "You scared me," I said to Misty.

There are only some fragments of the interaction that I remember. I was on autopilot, so to speak. One thing I remember thinking, was how much her appearance had changed over the past two weeks. Her cheeks had sunken and lost their pinkness, the skin around her eyes was red and rough like she'd rubbed them excessively, and the shoulders that I'd cried on countless times trembled feebly.

Her lips moved, uttering some words, some sentences, but I didn't comprehend any of those sounds. I believed I said something to her, though not completely certain of what. Crying and letting out piteous sounds, she stormed out of the greenhouse. Within a day, I think, she left the coven.

The memory potion was unfinished, and forgotten.

ooOooOoo

Since she'd left, I began to walk more freely around the academy. I'd gone back to teaching classes again, at which other girls were taking turns while I was withdrawing. I would spend some time in the greenhouse, though not as much time as I used to. Just long enough to water the plants, and just short enough to keep myself from the memories of Misty.

It was hard, though, to go a day without finding a shadow of her. Everywhere and everything of the coven had her fingerprints and the earthy scent so unique to her. A whole year. Only one year, since our paths had crossed. It seems such a short period of time, and yet it is long enough for plants to take root in the ground. Long enough, it turned out, for Misty to conquer my world and turn it upside down.

One day, something interrupted my sleep -or more like resting my eyes for a minute or two- in my office. Despite the bedroom that had lost its dweller, I continued to refuse to go back. It was the place that had the most traces of our lives. My insomnia hadn't gotten better anyway.

As I took another breath, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," I said loud enough for the person on the other side to hear.

Zoe's perpetually apologetic smile appeared, and she walked in, with Kyle following her, hand in hand. She asked me how I was doing, to which I replied with a harmless, nonchalant shrug.

"We have something to tell you," she told me.

My eyes, for whatever the reason, were pulled to Zoe's left hand, where a piece of Pink Tourmaline sparkled. "You got engaged," my mouth moved and I heard myself say.

"Yeah…yeah. Kyle proposed to me just now and I said yes."

"Congratulations."

Their smiles were rather suppressed, due to modesty or guilt towards me, I couldn't be certain.

"He told me you paid for the ring," she continued. "Thanks. It really means the world to me."

I gave her a nod. "When is the wedding? Have you decided?"

There was a silence, hesitation evident in their eyes, as they looked at each other. "We don't know yet." Zoe opened her mouth. "We want everyone to be there. Misty is part of our family. We can't have our wedding without her."

"She's not coming back," I told her. "Misty is not coming back," and to myself.

"…When are you going to the swamp?" Zoe probed. "You know she can't come back unless you want her to."

The image of her, twirling with tears in her sky blue eyes, smoldered in the back of my mind. Such a wonderful, exquisite creature. Misty Day. Her tragic beauty, from the moment I first saw her soul, captivated my heart. I'd so longed to call her mine, that magnificence, that embodiment of heartbreak.

She was the true Rhiannon, I finally understood in the moment. Like a queen of the sky, she ruled the world, where nothing could tie her down. Like a skylark, her songs were full of ardor as she soared higher. And I, a simple human with no wings, could only admire her from the earth, wishing for a day she would rest her wings near me, before flying away again.

"She's not coming back," I repeated myself.

ooOooOoo

The first time I ever saw Misty, not just feeling her but actually seeing her beauty with my own eyes, was here in the greenhouse.

Her ethereal beauty -the golden curls, the enigmatic eyes, the red lips- was too bright for my newly gained eyes. Every move she made, every word she uttered, I had never seen or heard anything so beautiful. Her smile was like the sun, and I was merely Icarus, who was mesmerized and possessed by the brightness of the planet. And her obsession with Stevie Nicks, which seemed to be excessive, somehow fit her personality so well. _"We make a great team."_ The first mistake was made like this.

Whilst in recollection, I got rid of weeds one by one, which I hadn't done for a while. Although the greenhouse was a controlled environment, it was only natural, literally, for weeds to grow under such negligence. It was me, sooner or later, who would have to take care of the place and keep it weed-free.

Misty didn't like it when I had to pull the weeds, I recalled, as my fingers grazed over one little flower beside my Foxglove. She hated it when any life was about to be wasted, even weeds.

 _"That one ain't dead, Miss. Cordelia. Do ya really have ta pick it?" she said. With a dejected, concerned expression on her face, she crouched next to me._

 _"This is a weed, Misty. They hinder other plants' growth if I don't get rid of them."_

 _"I know that." Her forehead was creased, the rose-red lips pursed. "But they don't know that. They are just livin' their lives. They don't_ _know they are less o' plants than others. It just makes me sad that other flowers are better off with 'em dead."_

I was left completely speechless, I remember, and ashamed of myself. She was pure like that, so soft that some people deemed her as a simple, naive, rural girl.

I pulled one weed out of the soil as an unconscious sigh fell out of my mouth. Weeds are so persevering. No matter how many times they are rid of, they always come back, not caring what people think of them. They don't have the kind of magnificence that roses possess, but I wished I had at least a fraction of their strength in me.

ooOooOoo

Time flew before my eyes like a shooting star. Only a blink of an eye, and a month easily had passed since Misty's departure. It was almost surreal, like watching someone else's dream, to realize how fast time could fly. Another blink, and another month was about to pass.

I allowed myself to go back to my own bedroom at last. Only at night, when the skies were starless, when the darkness concealed the holes Misty had left. But in the morning, the sun would reveal the empty side of the bed, and the empty shelf Misty used to store her Fleetwood Mac tapes.

Feeling the fresh sunlight on my back, I rested my gaze on the wall. On the nightstand, the woman in the portrait, a birthday gift from Misty, stared at me from behind the close eyelids. Extending my arm, I brought it near my face for closer study.

It was such a bizarre feeling, like listening to my recorded voice, to see my own sleeping face. It was me, but it wasn't me at the same time. The woman within the flowery frame had my brows, nose, lips, and hair, and yet there was something that drew a distinctive line between her and myself. The little smile that tugged at the corner of her lips, or the hair that rested around her neck so carelessly and so gracefully.

I was never beautiful like that, in my eyes, at least. Perhaps this was how Misty saw me, I ventured to mull over the possibility. Oscar Wilde once said in one of his novels that every portrait is a portrait of the artist. Whatever or whoever in the frame is irrelevant, a simple accident. It is the artist's color, not the sitter's, that is revealed by the work of art. A magnificent portrait, according to his words, is what it is because of the artist's eyes and heart.

The sleeping woman in my hands was truly beautiful. She was, besides Misty, the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid my eyes on. No portraits could beat this beauty. Not Mona Lisa, not the girl with a pearl earring, not Venus. It was the woman Misty's eyes saw, and I finally realized that she was never lying when she said I was the most beautiful woman on earth. I knew, no matter how much I wanted to deny, that nobody could create such beauty without total love, absolute surrender of the heart, and utter conviction in the truth of that love.

How stupid had I been to miss something so clear? I knew from the beginning, from the moment our hands touched, that she would make the impossible possible, and make heaven out of my misery, like a true magician that she was. Her love was immense, deeper than the sky and the ocean combined, yet so simple. _"I love ya, Miss. Cordelia,"_ she would always say, without expecting the same words from me, without expecting anything back from me. She would just give and give, just like birds would fly and sing. Nobody in the past, not even my ex-lovers, had ever loved me the way Misty did. She knew how to make love without physical intimacy, and she did it so easily, like breathing.

 _I want to listen to Stevie_ , I finally thought.

Taking a deep breath, I cried for myself, for the last time. That morning, I mourned for the people who I'd thought we used to be, but never were.


	21. Little Bandage

**To the guest who left a review:** thank you for sharing your thoughts! opinions like this made me actually think more deeply about this story. Here are some of my points.

I admit Misty's been too passive. but only since the relationship started. please note that Misty was quite enthusiastic about their friendship. all she wanted was make Cordelia happy. it was Misty who made changes in their relationship, because she thought that was what Cordelia wanted. she cares A LOT, even though she didn't know what she wanted for herself. and despite all that, Cordelia overtly said she didn't want them to be friends. there isn't much effort you can make after that? if anyone needs to grow, it's Cordelia, and the last chap was to show her growth.

when I started writing this story, I knew not everyone would be able to relate to Misty. she's a bit different, but that's what I wanted to write. I get why Cordelia is easier for the reader to empathize with, though. there are some more pieces of the puzzle I have yet to include, so your view may or may not change in the future. but I'd like to hear what you think when it's all finished. :D sorry I can only answer this much.

* * *

"Do you want to take a walk with me?" Cordelia said at the end of the silence.

There was no choice for me but to nod. At the first word, the first breath she drew for me, I felt all of my scars start to heal. Every word she'd said, every ache of my heart, all fading away. It was easy like that. Some people might hold grudges. Some might wish retaliation. But the fact that she came to see me, for whatever the reason, already meant the world to me.

As we walked in silence, her eyes looked over the bayou. "This place has changed so much since the last time I came here."

I remained silent because I wasn't sure if the words were directed at me. The last time we visited this place together was a couple of months ago. The middle of the summer, when cicadas and other bugs were making the best of their short, magnificent lives. The scenery of green had no resemblance to the bleak, naked place before our eyes.

Above the water was a screen of fog, encompassing us into a mystic world. I listened to our footsteps, faint but heavy. They were absorbed into the frost-bitten ground. The white moon was becoming like a cat's eye. The winter wind glided on the water surface, and caressed our skin. Cordelia trembled as though she didn't have layers of winter gear covering her body, her hands buried deep in her jacket pockets. She looked like a tiny bird, getting its feathers puffed to fight the icy weather.

"It's cold." Part of her neck was exposed by the wind. "Do you think the swamp will freeze this year? I've never seen a frozen swamp before."

This, I knew this was not a rhetorical question. "Dunno. It's rare. It have ta be much colder than this."

Although it does happen, it is a rare occurrence for a swamp to freeze. I'd only seen it twice in my life, in brutally harsh winters.

Cordelia talked more, about the weather, about the gators, about the garden. It was unusual of her to be talkative like this, I thought, but her eyes continued to look into space. In the instant, I was overwhelmed by fear and a sense of insecurity all of a sudden; what if there remained the same hollowness in her eyes when she turned around?

 _I might have gotten my hopes up._

She stared at the bayou under the moon. It seemed like she was looking for a gate to another world there. A sense of longing was evident on her face.

"When I was a child, I was scared of the night," she opened her mouth. "Not simply because it was dark. Because, looking at the sky, I thought it could swallow me up and I could never go home. When I met you, I don't know why, but I felt the same way. I was scared, of you. Not the same way Fiona frightened me, but a different kind of scary. I never knew I could be in love with someone who frightened me." Quiet chuckles escaped her lips, vibrating the stiff air. "You were- _are_ grand and so powerful, like the night sky. I guess I was scared that…if I ever allowed myself to be near you, you would swallow me up."

Another silence fell upon us again. I watched her profile, watched her black-jacketed figure blend into the darkening surroundings. The silver-gold waterfall of her hair illuminated as brightly as the twin moon on the water surface. I feared she would disappear. Disappear and become part of the dark if I dared to blink. Of course, it was an irrational idea.

The wind roared as though to mock my fear, and I was forced to close my eyes.

When I opened my eyes, I found she'd turned around to face me. Her eyes -they flickered with emotions!- gazed at me in the silence in a way that made me gulp in awe. Everything ceased to exist for a moment. The air stopped, the night birds quieted, the water stilled, my heart, and the whole world. That's what happens to the things around you, I think, when someone who represents your entire universe stands in front of you. Nothing else matters, and everything starts to have meaning simultaneously.

Her gaze was blistering. Not with accusation or hatred, but with something purer and much more intense. Bubbles in the deepest part of the ocean, it made me think of something like that.

With equally stubborn determination, I refused to look away. I knew how difficult it was for her to stand like that. Cordelia was looking into my eyes, into my soul. I knew, whatever word her mouth would utter next, I would love her even more then.

"I'm sorry." Her answer reached my ears, cut through the darkness like a trail of light.

She closed the gap between us, and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. The hand hovered over my cheek, soft fingertips radiating hesitation and uncertainty. Bringing up my hand, I took hers, before pressing my cold cheek to her palm. Gentle warmth seeped into my skin like a hot bath after a long, long journey. I hadn't felt that for an eternity. I felt her thumb get wet with droplets of my tears.

"I'm so sorry," she said again. "I should've been there for you when you suffered alone. I should've been the one to tell you there was nothing wrong with you. This is all my fault. If I had been stronger…"

I shook my head, with my cheek still against her hand. "It's not your fault, Miss. Cordelia."

"Yes, it is," she cried out. "The face you would make every time I said I love you…I knew you were struggling with something. But every time, I told myself to ignore it. Tried to convince myself it was nothing, because I felt like if I ever asked…" She abruptly looked down, before taking a strangled breath. "If I ever asked, I thought you'd be gone." Tears caught on her bottom eyelashes reflected the moonlight. "I'd kiss you and take you to bed, so you couldn't tell me how you truly felt. That's how I always dealt with problems in my past relationships. I didn't know any other way... I- And when I realized you were never in love with me, I couldn't-" The fingers on my cheek trembled. "Forgive me…Forgive me."

"Ya are- I already-" All that came out of my mouth was sobs and unfinished sentences.

The say the willingness and the ability to forgive is a sign of emotional and spiritual maturity. It's hard to say I can agree with them. I'd like to believe my spirit was mature like that, but forgiving Cordelia was different. To me, forgiving Cordelia was something more natural than blinking or breathing. It was easier than forgiving myself, for the tears that had wet Cordelia's cheeks.

She held me tightly as we sobbed together, something we had never done before. It seemed overdue, given all the obstacles we'd gone through. But it was always either me crying on her shoulder, or her on mine.

"I love ya," I choked out. I felt her nod in the crook of my neck.

"I love you, too, Misty Day."

I smiled for the first time in what felt like years. Her words of love still sounded different from mine, but I could live with it. I must.

"Come back to m- Come back to the coven."

Nuzzling further into her neck, I released a breathy laugh. "Ya know I can never say no ta ya."

ooOooOoo

We went back to the shack after admiring the stars for some more moments. Even though the moon illuminated the bayou, it was too dark to walk through the woods. We would go back to the academy in the morning, we decided.

"I'm completely spent." I rubbed my forehead.

"Me too." Cordelia, with her swollen, droopy eyes, let out husky chuckles.

As she gently placed herself onto the mattress, her brown eyes looked around the room. There was amusement tugging at the corner of her lips, curiosity in her eyes, as though she had never seen any place like this. At the sight, I felt a lump in my throat. Cordelia in my hut. It was a picture that I'd thought I would never see again. A huge piece of our kingdom. It had yet to be restored fully, but we had it in our hands.

Our eyes met, and we exchanged somewhat reserved smiles.

"Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day." Cordelia crawled under the mountain of blankets.

While giving her a nod in agreement, I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. The wooden floor creaked underneath me. I cleared my throat a few times, in order to keep the silence to a minimal, in order to conceal my uncertainty.

At last, I walked towards my bed and said: "Do ya- do ya mind if I steal a blanket?" I kept my gaze on my fist, the quilt blanket in my grip. "I'm used ta the cold, but even I wouldn't survive without any cover. Ya can keep the rest o' 'em. I just need one."

Cordelia looked at me, with her lips slightly parted. "Where are you going to sleep?" A hint of insecurity returned to her voice.

"On the floor. I've done it before. I can sleep like a log."

A short episode of silence followed. "You can sleep in the bed with me," she said in a whisper.

My fingers fiddled with the blanket, fingertips absentmindedly tracing the lines where two patches met.

It seemed there were two parts of me at war. One who wanted to jump into her arms, just the same way I'd always done. And the other who feared that exact same immutability of our relationship. Feared the unchanged. The tiny possibility that, in the morning, when I woke up, everything might be the same as before. Our tangled limbs, her nose in my hair. The life that I once had wished would never be different. The soft sunlight would cascade down on her cheeks, and I would have no choice but admire her. And when she opened her eyes and smiled at me in the light so happily, who could say I wouldn't allow her to press her lips against mine? It would be all over again. My pain, her tears. All for nothing.

"I won't do anything," sensing my reluctance, Cordelia whispered. "I don't want you to freeze, is all."

I bit my lip as I looked at her. A needle of guilt poked my heart at the tone of her voice. Wary, brokenhearted, yet gingerly expectant.

"Okay," I answered, and then slid under the sheets.

Scooting down, Cordelia made more room for me. Our bodies aligned in a quite neat manner, as if an invisible line divided the bed into two.

"Goodnight, Mist." Her voice was just about loud enough to travel the distance between us.

"'Night," I said it back.

In the dark, hooting of owls and cries of other nocturnal creatures drowned out our breathing. I listened to the wind. I listened to the squeaks of the roof, and leaves rustling against the walls.

Laying on my side, with the blank space and Cordelia behind me, I felt her body tremble. It might have been the last sign that I was searching for. Turning over, I found myself reaching for her over the invisible boundary. Her shoulders stiffened as my arm went around her waist, and with a faint exhale of breath, she relaxed, wiggled, and adjusted her body to fit into mine.

In the moment of stillness, I realized that this heartache would continue to haunt us, even after the reconciliation, just like blood cannot be stopped by simply acknowledging the wound. You must treat it with care. When it is done, the rest is in the hands of time.

And with her in my arms, there was no way to fight this helplessness, this powerlessness. I had no magic power to stop her tears, or mine that created a salty trail across my face.

* * *

this chap isnt so good i know :( imma try to finish the story in a few chaps...


	22. Ring & Infinity

When I opened my eyes, the sunlight was slipping through the holes and the gaps in the walls, bright spots on the white bedsheet. I looked around the small room for Cordelia, only to find her jacket gone. A wave of panic washed over me. It might have been a dream, I thought with my aching heart and dazed mind. It took a great deal of energy to suppress a sigh. Wanting to listen to Stevie, I sluggishly shifted my eyes to the nightstand, but there was no Stevie Jr.

Walking out of the shack with a pounding heart, I squinted my eyes at the rising sun. From the back of the shack, I heard music, faint but unmistakably familiar. The frost in the ground melted in the warmth of the morning, making the ground muddier and more slippery.

Cordelia sat on a rock in the corner of the garden, with Stevie Jr. by her side. The intro of Leather and Lace filled the morning-mist-covered swamp. The brown eyes saw me walk towards her, and she softly smiled at me. "Good morning."

"'Mornin'," I mumbled as I sat next to her. "I thought you'd left without me."

"Left without you?" She raised her pristine eyebrows at my confession, before shaking her head. "Never," she said. "I only wanted to listen to Stevie. I'd missed her songs so much." She cast her eyes down, where her fingers played with a tiny box made of velvet, as black as a raven.

"What's that?" I chinned at it. My question remained unanswered for some moments.

 _ **But I carry this feeling**_

 _ **When you walked into my house**_

 _ **That you won't be walking out the door**_

"I like this song," she said, smiling at the words that floated freely out of Stevie Jr. "It used to make me think of us." Then, another pause. Her eyes continued to stare at the box, as though the answers were kept in there. "I always had a strange sense of certainty that I'd spend the rest of my life with you. Not in a hopeful way. I just knew… Maybe that's why I panicked so much when I realized we are drifting apart. And as lame as it is, the only solution I could think of was to propose to you."

She finally opened the box, and I saw a silver ring buried in the bed of silk inside. Miniscule pieces of the morning sun twirled in the diamond and the other three green stones.

"Do you remember this?"

I timidly nodded to her question. How could I forget? It was the very ring I saw in the jewelry store, the one that made me think of the swamp.

"I said I'd forgotten something in the store. It was a lie. Just an excuse to go back to buy this. When I saw you looking at the ring, I thought if we got engaged, everything would be fine again." She offered me a broken smile, something teetering on the line between marvel and dejection. "So stupid, right?"

I struggled to find words. Seeing the ring in Cordelia's hands was as unexpected as finding a firefly in winter. "Sorry. If I'd known 'bout maself..."

"Don't."

"I know it was hella expensive."

A tiny disheartened smile was planted on her lips. "Money is a small sacrifice. I almost lost something much more important."

I looked down in shame, and wondered if the lesson she had to learn was really worth that much. She would say so. But, nobody could be certain that in the future, when she looked back at this event, she wouldn't regret it. And anybody could tell that the dejected smile and the five-thousand-dollar ring shouldn't be in the same picture, shouldn't be held by the same person.

 _ **Lovers forever, Face to face**_

 _ **My city or mountains, Stay with me stay**_

 _ **I need you to love me, I need you today**_

"Can I ask you something?" Her hesitant voice broke the silence. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

"What is it?"

"Have you ever been in love, with anyone?"

My heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second. The tone of her voice, the way it was lowered to keep the trembles of it at bay. I don't think I would ever understand how she felt when those words left her lips. Hurt, yes. Desperate, maybe. But words would never be enough.

"No. I don't think so," I answered honestly.

"Do you think you ever will?"

"I…don't know."

"Do you hate it when I say I love you?"

"…Not anymore." My two words were simple. The implication was tantamount to a thousand needles. But lies hurt much worse, and we couldn't—I couldn't torture us with this pretense that her love had never left scars on me.

Cordelia nodded her head, took a breath, and nodded again. "Do you want-" she hesitated. "What do you want? What do you want for us?"

I faltered as if nobody had ever asked me such a question. _What do I want?_ I momentarily looked up to the sky, and wished my own heart was as clear as the shade of blue. Why is that we always want so restlessly when we can't have, but when we can have we don't even know what we want? Or is it just me?

"I don't know what I want," I finally let the words out. "But I know what I don't want…"

"What do you not want?"

"I don't wanna get hurt anymore. My mama told me when I was young that love was makin' sacrifice, that love was puttin' the other person's needs before yours. So I tried—tried so hard ta be the girlfriend ya wanted me ta be. But I somehow ended up hurtin' ya even more and hurtin' maself too. I don't know what I done wrong or what's wrong with me, but I don't wanna get hurt anymore." Despite my attempt, my eyes welled up once again. I kept my gaze on the bed of Christmas roses, jaw tightening, bottom lip quivering.

"There is nothing wrong with you, Mist. And you didn't do anything wrong." Her voice was reassuring. She inhaled deeply, before continuing, "I want to say I would've made sacrifice myself. I want to say you should've believed in me. But I can't be certain if I really would have. I think- All my life, I blindly and stubbornly believed that I had to be loved in a romantic way for my life to have meaning and worth. So I married a guy I was never in love with, just so I could feel important. Then, when he left, I thought it was because I was worthless. There was this constant voice that told me nobody was going to love me. I was so scared. I wanted you to love me, but—it wasn't love, I think. It was me wanting to feel important, wanting someone to fix me and make me complete. It didn't have anything to do with love. I was so hung up on my insecurities that I failed to realize what I already had and how lucky I was. I was already whole, and you always loved me for who I am." In the morning sun, her eyes glistened ever so slightly. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to get here."

"Sorry I couldn't give ya what ya wanted."

"Misty." With my name on her tongue, she let out a tender breath. "I have everything I ever wanted, Misty. I have all of you."

When our eyes locked, Cordelia smiled at me, delicately and daintily, almost like a fragile china cup. Then I felt her hand reach for mine. Her gentle warmth coursed through my veins as her fingers interlocked with mine, in a way that made me feel like she was embracing my heart.

A quiet sigh escaped her lips. "If I'm being completely honest, I'm still in love with you, madly so. And a small part of me still feels sorry for myself. It'll be hard to fall out of love. A year, three years, I don't know how long it'll take. I feel like I only know the world where I'm in love with you." Her speech was intermittent as she stopped to sniff a couple of times. "But I'll be fine, because you love me. It is rare, I think. Not everybody can have this kind of love in their lives. It is rare. It is powerful. It is infinite."

"Infinite?"

She gave me a nod. "Infinite."

"I like the sound o' that."

 _ **Give to me your leather  
Take from me my lace**_

After putting the ring back to the box, and the box to her jacket pocket, Cordelia stretched her arms above her head. On her face was serenity, the kind of calmness that lingers in the eyes. She was so beautiful, more than I had ever known her to be.

"Let's go home," she said to me with a halo in her hair.

 _Home_. What a wonderful sound it is, and such an elusive word. Sometimes it is in nature, sometimes it has a human face. And no matter what would happen in the future, I prayed it'd have Cordelia's warmth, Cordelia's scent, and Cordelia's touch, as long as our souls last.

But when she looked over to the water and mumbled "I need to find you a new room," I realized things were no longer the same.

The wind played with the tip of her hair. Rays of sunshine waltzed through the strands.

It is such a funny thing. The human heart. You keep fighting and fighting, in order to bring about change, but the moment you see the end of old days ahead of you, you can't help but wonder if it was really the right decision, wonder if it was the 'right' future. There is no knowing. There is no crying over the milk that might have spilled.

So all you can do is to flip your wings with every power you have, and admire the world that is beneath you. And I must, though with undeniable fears, continue to walk, to make this the 'right' future. It would be hard. But with Cordelia by my side, it wouldn't be impossible.

ooOooOoo

We came back to the academy that same afternoon. The air was crispy, I remember, but the sun kept us warm on the way home. In the driver's seat, Cordelia would occasionally turn to look at me in tranquil silence. Simple looks, and they were more than my heart ever needed.

As Cordelia had said, I was given a new room on the end of the corridor, a few doors away from the Supreme's bedroom. It was a small room that was used as storage. Dusty, a bit lacking the sunlight, and there wasn't much room left with the bed occupying more than half of the place. But I had it for myself and myself only. My own room, in the huge academy, and it was peculiarly satisfying. Sometimes, I would lay in bed and close my eyes, listening to the little noises outside the room.

Though Cordelia would still let me in her room and stay there until late at night, I was no longer allowed to sleep in her bed. Every night would end with my reluctance to go back to my room and her forced smile.

"Give me some time. I'm not confident enough not to give into my impulses," she'd say. "I don't want to make you feel like you need to protect yourself from me."

She began to go on dates, more vigorously than ever in her life. Sometimes it is a she, some other times it's a he. I'd often wait for her return on the balcony, and watch as she hugged her date goodnight at the gate. Never a kiss, always a short-lived embrace. Each night, after she turned from them, a sigh would escape her rouged lips, a sign of fruitlessness of the night. Then her gaze would rise from the ground to me on the balcony. She would shrug, and we'd share the cordial winter air and the moonlit silence.

It didn't take long until the girls started showering us with verbal and nonverbal questions. They would steal glances and whisper behind me, wondering what the hell was wrong with me to break up with Cordelia, the Supreme, the target of everyone's admiration. Ironically enough, it was one of the few things that hadn't changed and would never change. But I refused to let those judging gazes affect me anymore.

I no longer called her with the formal title. Just plain Cordelia. The absence of formality was, in a way, a symbol of leaving the past behind. All of the oblivious innocence. It gave me a tickling feeling in my chest as her name left my mouth, and I loved every second of it. Around the same time, I also decided it was about the time to stop hiding my accent when I spoke with people. The insecurities continued to nudge me in the side every time they threw me funny looks. _It will pass_ , I would tell myself. If I really wanted to be comfortable in my own skin, this was a necessary fight, an important mountain to climb.

Then Christmas came in a blink of an eye. I blinked again, and the year was coming to an end. With most of the girls back to their home, we were able to relish the tranquility of the night.

"Hurry, Mist. The ball is about to fall down," Cordelia called out from the couch, bundled up in a blanket.

I ran as fast as I could with two cups of tea in my hands. "We have a whole minute left, Cordelia. The ball ain't gonna just drop by itself." I let out chuckles as I snuggled back under the blanket.

"Seriously, this is bullshit." Madison, wearing her diva pout, mumbled. "It's New Year's Eve, and I'm sitting here with the biggest losers on earth. What the hell did I do to deserve this!?"

I turned to Cordelia, and together we rolled our eyes.

"Because, Madison," Cordelia said to her. "you got banned from every one of the clubs in town."

Giggles of Nan filled the room. "Yeah, you are probably on the blacklist of all the clubs in the U.S. by now!"

"Good job, girl. Your effort finally paid off," Queenie was deadpan as she sank her teeth into a cookie, a leftover from Christmas.

There was a hint of a genuine smile across Madison's face. It might have been my eyes playing tricks on me, but she seemed to be enjoying the moment as much as the rest of us. "I don't even have anyone to make out with when the ball drops." Her bloodshot eyes moved to Kyle, looking at him up and down like a starving serpent.

"Stop looking at my fiancé with your filthy eyes!" Zoe squealed in a mixture of seriousness and mischief, before pulling Kyle into her protective embrace. Kyle released giggles at the exchange, and kissed his soon-to-be-wife on the cheek.

"Why da ya have ta have someone ta kiss anyway?" I asked Madison, fully aware that I would only get a salty response. "If ya don't even know the person, the kiss don't have any meanin'."

My remarks were dismissed with a super-theatrical eye roll. Her blood-red lips parted to add some taunting words. At the same time, the other girls began to count down in excitement, effectively silencing her. The rainbow electric bubble made its descent on the TV screen, and the bustle of the people at the foot of the ball was deafening even at a decently low volume of the speakers.

As it neared the end of the year, Cordelia, only watching the girls scream, wiggled closer to me. I wrapped my arm around her middle and let her head rest on my shoulder. Although my eyes were trained on the screen, I could feel her smiling. And I hoped, even with her gentle eyes fixed on the TV, she could feel me smiling, too.

* * *

welp, this is the end of this journey! It was my first time ever to write such a long story...I've done it! so proud of myself rn :D I'd like to know what you think, or you can just complain :P But if you leave a question in the review section, please do so off anon, otherwise I wouldn't be able to answer since I'm no longer updating this fic. my message box is also open on here and on Tumblr. Bye!


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